Scarlet Letter
by Sapphira T
Summary: A letter started this all, and a letter might be the cause for the end. What is this mysterious letter? What is so important about it that would cause such an uproar? Rouge might be able to figure it out, or, she could be another victim. Third story in the All for One series.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! Sapphire here! I'm back! With a new Musketeers story for you! For those of you who just showed up, this is the third in my series. The first one is All for One, and the second is One for All. I recommend you go and read those before you tackle this one.**

 **If you have that done, enjoy the new story!**

 **ST**

I crept over the rafters in the barn's ceiling, keeping a careful watch on the four men beneath me, playing cards.

My target was on the other side of the barn. Said target was a hostage, hanging from the barn beams by his arms, and he had a bag tied over his head. I didn't have long, since staying in that position for too long could be lethal.

I quickened my pace, I was supposed to get him, and get out, then Porthos would break the door down on the other side, where I had come from, and he, Athos, D'artagnan, and Aramis would burst inside and subdue the captors.

My job was simply to sneak through a barn window from the side I came in from, and get the hostage away from the dangerous area. I was supposed to get him to my horse, then ride back to the town not far from here with him so he could receive medical attention.

The five of us had been summoned to the small town because of the threats formulating around the town about assassinations, then a nobleman had gone missing on his journey through the town, where he was last seen. He had been missing a week before we had gotten there, and the nobleman, barely 15 years old, had been being held for ransom. His mother and father were beside themselves with worry, and had begged the King to help them.

As a result, the Inseparables plus me were sent in.

I tried not to make any noise as I tread lightly across the scaffolding. Why would someone choose a barn of all places to hold someone hostage? It was obvious and out in the open. Porthos had found it easily. They hadn't even gone that far out of town!

I made it across the barn without too much trouble, and, after checking to make sure no one was looking towards me, I slid down a pole and dropped lightly to the ground.

I walked behind the man hanging and gently checked him over. He was still breathing, if shallowly, and he had injuries dotted across his body. But other than that he seemed to be alright.

Quickly, I cut him down and caught him before he hit the ground. I lowered him gently to the dirt and pulled the bag carefully off of his face.

He groaned as the torchlight assaulted him, and I quickly covered his mouth, tensing. But the stupid captors didn't even turn around.

I breathed a sigh of relief and the hostage, who was named Fernandez, opened his eyes to look at me blurrily.

"Sh." I murmured quietly, listening intently around me. I heard something strike the side of the barn, and knew that was my cue. "I'm with the King's Musketeers. I'm here to get you out. So try not to make a sound, alright? Can you stand?"

He narrowed his eyes tiredly, but nodded. I gave him a nod and pulled him slowly to his feet. I wanted to go faster, but any faster and he could injure himself more. Strained muscles weren't something to mess around with.

He, for his credit, didn't make a sound other than pained grunts, which were thankfully quiet enough so as not to alert the captors.

Just as we began to stagger towards the barn doors, the other side of the barn shook, and that door blew open with Porthos behind it, already shooting.

I sped up, being late myself as according to the plan, and Fernandez struggled to keep up with me. He was shorter than I was, and too thin since he had no doubt been poorly taken care of during his stay with the morons, so dragging him was relatively easy.

I turned the corner, only the moon illuminating my path, and cursed under my breath as a man stepped around the corner. We knew there was probably more men than the ones inside, but I was just hoping I wouldn't run into them.

But, of course, luck was against me.

The man started slightly, then he reached for his flintlock.

I barely managed to shove Fernandez behind me before the echo of the flintlock firing echoed around us. The ball had grazed my side, but it wasn't deep nor dangerous if I got it taken care of as soon as I could.

I whistled loudly, since stealth at this point was a tossup thanks to the idiot in front of me very loudly declaring that someone of interest was behind the barn. Hopefully my horse had heard me and would be here soon. Hopefully the teenager behind me would stay behind me.

I drew my sword and lunged forward. I easily rid him of his gun, not that it would do too much at this point, and slashed his chest. I kicked him in the stomach and he went down.

Then more people came at me from the other side of the barn, and I jerked the scared teen to his feet.

They began to run at us, all three of them, but the thunder of hoofbeats drew my attention away from them.

My warhorse ran beside us, and I practically threw the nobleman onto his back. Shadow threw his head, and I tossed a smokebomb at the approaching people.

White smoke filled the area, and I leapt onto Shadow's saddle, the teen behind me holding tightly to my shoulder. I spurred Shadow on, and the warhorse lunged forward, thundering away.

M

I leaned my chair back, twirling a dagger in my hand.

Fernandez was currently sitting in a chair across from me, his injuries doctored and wrapped, and he was watching me with a scrutinizing gaze.

We had gotten back to the inn without any trouble, so the only thing left to do was wait for the other four to show up.

Finally, fed up with being stared at, I threw my hat onto the table and met his unwavering brown gaze, "What?" I asked, trying not to snap.

He jerked slightly, then smiled sheepishly at me, "My apologies monsieur. But you seem to know my name, yet I do not know yours."

I blinked, I had forgotten about that.

I smiled back at him, putting my knife away and replying, "Ah. Sorry about that. Rogue Dieithr."

Fernandez tilted his head, "That isn't a French name."

I shook my head, "No. I'm Welsh."

His brown eyes lit up, "Really? What is it like?"

I tilted my head with a small smirk, "I think you are the first Frenchman to ask that."

He ducked his head with a blush dusting his cheeks, "Apologies."

I waved my hand, "I do not mind. Wales is…" I trialed off, a smile on my face, "Well, Wales is cold. It's green, the air is fresh. There is mountains and hills everywhere you look. I swear the freshest air there is, is at the peak of a mountain in Wales. The water is crystal clear, and there is plenty of meadows and forests to entertain oneself."

The teen was staring at me with rapt attention, and awe shone in his eyes. "Someday, I'd love to see it."

I laughed, "Thirst for adventure then? I'm the same. I amazed I managed to stay in Paris this long to be honest."

He tilted his head, "Really? Where have you been before? Was it nice there too? How many places have you been? Do you speak a lot of languages? Oh! Do you know how to fight well? You showed you could handle a sword earlier, but what else can you do? Would you teach me?"

I laughed, "You ask a lot of questions. That's good. In answer to your question, I've been to Wales, obviously, Italy, Spain, France, England, Germany, Ireland, and Scotland. I speak all the languages in each region, and a few more. My favorites beside Wales are Ireland, Germany, and France. I can fight with a lot of weapons, but I'm best with the sword, knives, and a bow. I might teach you, if we had the time. But your parents are worried about you, and wish to have you back with them as soon as they can."

He seemed to deflate at my last words, and I leaned forward curiously. "What's that look for? I should think you'd be excited to go home."

He shrugged, "Well, my parents and I had a bit of a falling out. That's why I was passing through here. I wanted to leave. To explore, and have grand adventures. They want me to stay with the estate, and be a 'regal Lord' instead of the child they say I am being."

I bit my lip, "Well, they are worried about you. I would suggest that you talk to them, instead of running away. Nothing is ever solved by running away. Also, if you want to have adventures, are you certain you're prepared to pay the price?"

He jerked his head up to me, "What do you mean? Like what happened here? I'm certain if I knew how to fight better, then I'd be alright. Also, after this I'll be a bit more knowledgeable. Isn't experience the best thing?"

I nodded, leaning back, "Yes. Sometimes. I have some experiences I could have lived without. Look, I'm not going to berate you for yearning for adventure, just….. Don't throw away the family you have because of your wanderlust. I've lost nearly all of mine, and I'd give almost anything to have them back."

"Almost?" He asked, suddenly looking paler than he had before.

I grinned, "Well, because of what happened to my old family, I gained more friends, and a new family. But that doesn't mean I don't miss the ones I used to have. I've had a lot of great adventures, met plenty of interesting people, but up until this year, I had been alone for most of it. Having adventures and gaining new experience is wonderful, but if you don't have anyone to share it with, is it worth it?" I pinned him with my blue eyes, and he looked thoughtful.

"I suppose… I'll have to fix what I have with my parents." He said finally, "You are right. I can't see myself having adventures if I can't tell my family about them…."

I clapped his shoulder gently, "That's a better way of thinking. Have as many adventures as you can, but know that it isn't always fun and games. There is heartbreak there too, but also happiness. It's a gamble, one that you have to be sure you're willing to take, no matter the price. And sometimes, that price can be very steep."

He nodded, "I understand. Thank you, Rogue. But, could you perhaps tell me of your own adventures? While we wait for the other Musketeers?"

I nodded, leaning back again, "I suppose it wouldn't hurt. Alright, when I was about 16…"


	2. Chapter 2

A knock rang out through the room, which sent Fernandez bolting upright from his place on the bed.

I rose stealthily from my chair and put a finger to my lips, Fernandez nodded mutely in reply, and I padded softly across the room.

I drew my sword, and carefully opened the door. Peeking around it.

Porthos bellowed a laugh when he saw me and pushed his way inside, "Told you he was a'right!" He called out to the other three as he threw himself into a chair beside the fire, shedding his cloak and hat.

Aramis was inside next, rolling his eyes and giving me a brief onceover. I waved him on to Fernandez and sheathed my sword.

D'artagnan was next, and even with his cloak, he was shivering. He quickly threw himself onto the ground right in front of the cheery fireplace.

Athos came last, and closed the door behind him.

He looked around the room, taking stock of all of us, then nodded to me, "You alright?" He asked quietly.

I nodded, "Yes. We ran into a bit of trouble, but neither of us were injured seriously on our way out."

"But you were injured." He stated, raising an eyebrow.

"Musketball. Graze to the side. Not deadly or even a bit dangerous. I've stitched it, doctored it, and wrapped it. I'm perfectly fine. Fernandez is also fine, shaken up and sore, but alright in the long run."

He nodded, "Any other complications?"

I shook my head, "None."

"Well done." His praise rang through my ears, and I grinned at him happily.

"What about all of you?"

"We're fine. Aramis took care of any injuries earlier."

I nodded, "Good. So we'll leave tomorrow?"

He dipped his head, "Yes. For now, you can retire to your own room. See if you can drag D'artagnan and Porthos away from the fire to go with you." Athos smirked at me and I rolled my eyes at his amusement.

I grabbed my own jacket that had been hanging from the back of a chair and threw the warm leather over D'artagnan's shivering shoulders. He immediately huddled into the warmth and looked up at me, "Thanks." He managed to get out.

"That cold out already?" I asked, kneeling beside him.

He nodded, and Porthos leaned forward so his head was between ours, "It is November. There is snow outside already, of course it's cold."

I shrugged, "I've grown accustomed to the cold in the north, to me it isn't that cold. However, considering how hot France can get, I understand why you're so cold now. But, Athos said that we can retire to our room." To save a bit of money, we had split the rooms between us. Aramis and Athos stayed in the room we were currently in, and now Fernandez was joining them, while D'artagnan, Porthos, and I took another.

D'artagnan nodded and stood up, still curled into my jacket tightly. It was too big for me at a slight degree, so it fit him easily.

I stood up with both of them, and with a wave to the other two, we quickly passed through the chilly hallway into our own room filled with a chill.

Porthos immediately set about getting the fire started, and D'artagnan quickly shed his shoes and hat, then leapt onto one of the two beds, the biggest one, and huddled underneath the blankets.

The two boys had offered to share a bed so I could have my own, and after a bit of prodding, I agreed.

I sat down on my own bed and began taking off my belt and my boots. "D'art, you might want to remove your sword. I doubt Aramis would be too happy to be woken later if you skewer Porthos." I suggested as the sound of a roaring fire filled the room.

Porthos stood up and rubbed his hand together, nodding. "Yeah, pup. I'd rather not get stabbed."

D'artagnan grumbled, but got out of bed long enough to hang his sword belt on a chair before he had dived back underneath the blankets. Porthos sat down on the side opposite him and swung his legs onto the bed, drawing the blanket up to his chin.

I watched them with no small amount of amusement, compared to an Irish winter, this was fine. They were even in the bed near the fire, while I was next to the window.

I rolled my eyes as D'artagnan started to curl into Porthos' warmth, but the two brothers had done it enough, with Aramis and Athos too, that nothing like that was ever awkward anymore.

It had taken some getting used to after I began to go on longer mission with them the later it got in the year and one of the would just sit beside me at camps and pulled me to them so we could sleep better. I was used to sleeping in the same place as Aramis, since both of us had too many nightmares to go a week without the simple comfort, but Athos had weirded me out one night.

We had set up camp in a cave for the night, and it was bitterly cold outside with a wind chill lowering the temperature further. Aramis had immediately drug Porthos and D'art closer to the fire, then collapsed with both of them, curled up in each other and blankets. Athos had pulled me closer to the fire, then lied down and patted the ground beside him, holding a blanket out for me.

I had lied down beside him with no shortage of confusion, then he had sighed and jerked me to his side, shifting so I had been underneath his arm, curled at his side. At first I thought he'd lost his mind, but I had eventually relaxed because of his heat and the fact that he didn't say a word.

After that it seemed that it no longer mattered. We slept beside each other often, whether for warmth or for nightmares.

I pulled my cloak over the bed for extra heat, deciding that D'artagnan could keep my jacket for tonight, then curled into the blankets and faced the window. I watched the frost creep across the glass until I fell asleep.

M

D'artagnan and I were in the back of our odd little procession as we rode to Fernandez's family estate, with Porthos and Fernandez in the center, and Athos and Aramis in the front. We were all on our horses, and we were all ready for a hot meal.

Even if I was used to colder weather, this still wasn't all that fun. If there was no wind, I'd have no problem. I would be enjoying myself, maybe throwing snow from nearby trees at my companions. But, because of the howling wind that was tossing ice and snow into my face, I was less than enthused.

But, we could see the house in front of us. So it wouldn't take us that long to get there now.

D'artagnan blew warm air onto his hands, gloves and all, and shoved one hand underneath his horse's thick mane.

"Still th… think cold is n…nice?" He stuttered out, casting me a half-hearted glare.

I grinned at him in response, "Still not as bad as what I'm used to. But I wouldn't knock a warm fireplace right now."

D'artagnan shook his head, and I noted with worry that his lips were turning blue. I bit my lip, and looked backwards at my thick winter cloak.

Then I sighed and whipped it off my back, fighting off a shiver as that source of heat vanished. Then I threw it over D'artagnan's shoulders before the heat could leave it, dropping my reins to quickly tie the cloak around his throat.

He looked up at me in shock, but couldn't help but burrow into the warmth the cloak provided. "Wh…..What are you doing? You'll fre….freeze."

I rolled my eyes, "Please. Like I said, I'm used to colder. You're lips are turning blue, hypothermia is not something we want right now. I'll be fine, so just accept it, please? I don't want to see you get yourself hurt because you're worried about me."

D'artagnan looked like he wanted to argue, but I pointed at him threateningly, "I will tie it tighter around your throat if you continue to fight me on this."

That shut him up, and he offered me a grateful smile. "I'll make it up to you." He promised.

I shot him a smirk, "You warming up and not freezing to death is payment enough. But if you insist, next time I'm passing out from heat exhaustion, you can carry me to some shade. How about that?"

He nodded, "Sounds good."

I turned back forward, and caught a brief glimpse of Athos turning back around from facing us, a smile on his lips. Aramis turned back to me, furrowing his eyebrows and looked between D'artagnan and I. I shrugged, and he smiled broadly at me, before rolling his eyes and turning back forward.

I didn't mind the cold in the least, and he knew that.

 **Hey guys! Sapphire here! I'm glad you guys seem to be liking it already! I put the first chapter up earlier, and within two hours, you guys had already f** **avorited** **and reviewed! You just make my little heart sing! Please tell me what you think of it, I love hearing from you guys!**

 **ST**


	3. Chapter 3

I watched with no shortage of amusement as D'artagnan sparred against a new recruit in the courtyard. D'artagnan, ever the imp, was using the snow surrounding us to his advantage. Though his opponent, who was from a warmer area in France than here, was sliding on the ice and snow, D'artagnan was gliding around him easily. Or, _easier_. He still wasn't all that graceful on the ice, but he was maintaining his balance and shifting his weight to skate along.

We had successfully gotten Fernandez back to his parents, who had been overjoyed and had rewarded us handsomely. Then we had come back to Paris. Treville had given us a day of reprieve, but now we were back in full swing. And tomorrow, their Majesties were throwing a winter ball, and we'd be on guard duty.

Plus, her majesty had specifically asked for me to be there, so unlike the other recruits, I'd be there too.

Thankfully not wearing a dress this time. But I had also been given instructions on what to wear, and it was still fancy. And winter themed. Yay….

Aramis plopped down at our table beside me and shook snow out of his collar, his breath coming out in white mist. Porthos was still throwing recruits into snow piles, and Athos was up talking to Treville.

I shot Aramis a bemused smirk and he frowned at me, "I hate winter." He muttered crossly.

I knew why he hated the cold, but I was determined to brand some good memories in his head about winter.

"Aw, but you get to have snowball fights, make snowpeople, and even snow angels." I pouted.

He gave me a flat look, "What are you now, a child? And besides, snow angels? Snow people?"

I rolled my eyes, "You've got to be kidding. You've never made either of them before? And you cannot talk to me about being a child."

He shook his head, so I stood up and walked over to a big stretch of undisturbed snow. Aramis stood too, watching me warily.

I grinned at him, spread my arms, and fell backwards into the snow. I almost vanished because there was more snow than I had thought, and Aramis cried out, "Rogue! What are you doing?"

Then I began to move my arms and legs as he watched me with a mystified expression. "I'm making a snow angel." I replied with a grin. The snow around me was puffing up, add that to the snow still falling from the sky, and I felt I was back with Eve and Izzy, making snow angels without a care in Wales.

When I was done, I went still and looked up at Aramis. "Can I get a hand?" I asked, holding out my hand to him.

He rolled his eyes, but clasped his gloved hand with mine, pulling me to my feet. Then he narrowed his eyes at my snow angel, which was pretty good if I do say so myself. "Is that supposed to be an angel?" He asked, rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

I huffed, then pointed to it. "Yeah! See? There is its wings, there is its body, and my hat even made a halo!" Speaking off, I took my hat off my head and dusted off the snow from the feather and the leather.

Aramis tilted his head, "I suppose it does look like one, if you look at it from far away."

He shot me a mischievous smirk and I hit his shoulder, "Fun sucker." I muttered.

He laughed at me, dusting off more snow from my shoulders. "Alright, now what about these…. 'snow people' you spoke of?"

I grinned brightly at him, bouncing back from the cross mood he had put me in.

I walked to the thicker snow, well aware that Treville and Athos were watching me now from the balcony, as well as other Musketeers dotted around the Garrison. I fell to my knees again and began pushing the snow into an oval type thing.

I dragged the finish product into a clearer area and flattened out the top, making the sides more round, and made sure it was stable. Then I walked back over to my snow pile and made another ball. I repeated the first process, then walked back to the snow pile and made the final ball that were serve as the snow man's head.

I put the final piece onto the snowman that was almost my height. I was cold now, but that didn't matter. I was proving a point.

I put the head on, then grabbed stones and a few sticks, then fashioned his eyes and his mouth.

I turned around, intent on asking Serge for something, but instead got assaulted by a carrot.

Serge was standing near a wall, crooked grin on his face and arms crossed, laughing as I juggled with the carrot he had thrown at me.

I glared at him, a smile dancing on my lips, and he waved his hand. "Go on then lad! Finish im!"

I grinned broadly at him, tipped my hat to him, then put the carrot nose in place.

I found some more sticks, and fashioned his arms.

I stepped back, clapping my hands free of snow, then grinned at the audience I had garnered. "Ta-da!" I exclaimed, waving my hands to the proud snowman standing in the center of the yard.

I heard a chuckle from above me, and twisted around towards Treville and Athos. Treville was laughing at me, and Athos had a smile on his lips.

"I think he needs something else." Treville suggested after sobering, but his lips were still twisted in something that resembled a fond smile.

D'artagnan walked over to me, an old hat in his hands, and an old cloak that had a Musketeer insignia on the back of it.

He gave me a happy grin, then plopped the hat onto the snowman's head, and wrapped the cloak around his neck.

Then another Musketeer, Du'Bron, approached with a long stick and smiled at me, "He could use a sword?" He suggested, then tied the sword around the snowman's midsection.

I stepped away to stand beside Porthos and the other Musketeers began admiring our newest member.

I looked up at Treville and he smirked at me, "Seems we have a new recruit."

"Think he'll survive long?" Athos asked dryly.

D'artagnan answered him in reply, "If we give him a few brothers, then I'd say yes!"

The other Musketeers in the Garrison looked up with hopeful eyes at Treville, who sighed and looked up at the sky. "We weren't going to get much done today anyway." He muttered, then sighed and shook his head dramatically, "Go on then. But I don't want them disturbing anyone tomorrow when we start training again. Am I clear?"

A chorus of 'yes sir!' echoed around the Garrison, then everyone was working together to make an army of snowmen.

I laughed as I watched them scurry around the yard. A snowball hit the side of my head then, and I jerked around to see Athos walking away from the stairwell, snow dusting his hands and a smirk set on his face.

I glared at him, before my lips rose in an impish grin. Instead of bending down to scoop up snow, I lunged at him. He didn't expect me to do that, so I easily managed to tackle him into a rather large snowpile.

We vanished underneath a blanket of white, and from the laughter echoing around us, it was a funny sight.

Honestly I was too intent on getting off of Athos, because he was grabbing at me and trying to shove snow down my back.


	4. Chapter 4

I walked, hidden, in the shadows. Though the center of the room was lit well, the outskirts weren't as well lit to 'add an air of mystery'. In my opinion it only made it easier to sneak into the ball undetected to harm someone. Which is why I was patrolling the area while the other Musketeers stood stock still at their posts, and the King's guests waltzed.

I will say that the decorations were very pretty; fake frost over the windows, icy blue tapestries everywhere, and the guests themselves looked like ghostly figures all clad mostly in blues and purples, a few in scarlet and black.

I myself wore a black cape that had scarlet on the tips, a scarlet tunic, black pants, my black sword, my daggers, black boots, and my black hat, but with a scarlet feather in it instead.

I had to laugh earlier, because since Aramis, Athos, D'artagnan, and Porthos would be stationed beside their Majesties dias, they had to dress appropriately. And the King had demanded his 'best Musketeers' be dressed in icy blue uniforms with white lining. I thought they looked like icy elves or something.

Porthos was less than enthused, especially since the King himself had added an extra flare….. In the form of white glitter….

Porthos said he looked like a fairy. I readily agreed with him, gleeful beyond belief that this time, I was the one that got to laugh at their discomfort.

I looked over to my four friends now, and stifled a snicker at how much they gleamed. The candle light caught on the glitter all over them, and made them shine brilliantly. Treville himself had been conned into the glowing death.

Their majesties wore something similar, with icy blue as the base, and dark purple on the edges. Instead of glitter though, they had gemstones set into their clothing. They looked regal and proud, while my friends looked uncomfortable.

I caught Athos' eyes, and he made sure I saw him roll them.

I shot him a smirk, then melted back into the shadows and continued my patrol.

M

I was nearing their Majesties dais when Treville found me. He jerked his head in a clear order to go to him, so I walked out of the shadows.

My own outfit did glisten, but not because of glitter, just because of the fabric it was made out of.

When I came into view, the King jumped slightly in surprise, and the Queen looked at me in alarm, before they both relaxed.

I bowed my head as I neared them, and the King noted, "You are very good at sneaking around, are you not?"

"My apologies if I startled you, your majesty." I replied lowly, charm oozing from my tone.

"Nonsense! You did not frighten me, Rogue, however, you might have startled my Queen." The King replied arrogantly.

I tilted my head, still not looking up or rising from my bowed position, "Of course. Your Majesty is too brave to be frighten. I do however, sincerely apologies to The Queen if I gave her a fright."

The King made a huffing noise, then turned to Anne. "My darling, are you quite alright?"

"Of course, darling." Anne replied instantly. _The Queen._ I berated myself silently. But I hadn't forgotten spending a few days with her a month earlier. "Rogue was simply doing his job, and this proves he is rather good at it. Don't you think?"

"I do. That's what you get from my Musketeers!" The King proclaimed proudly, "Don't you think, Cardinal?"

"Most definitely." The Cardinal voice rang out, and he sound that he most definitely did _not_ think that the Musketeers were worth his time.

"Rogue, what has your patrol revealed?" Treville asked, calm and cool like always.

"Nothing, Captain. The room is secure for now." I replied, head still bowed.

"Well done." Treville noted.

The King clapped his head, "Splendid! Indeed, Rogue, well done. You have done a fantastic job lately, since you arrived in Paris, have you not? I have heard many things about you."

"Your Majesty is too kind." I replied humbly.

"Don't be so humble, Rogue." The Queen berated gently, "We have heard a great deal about your exploits. You saved missing children, and nobly saved your sister at nearly the cost of your own life. And you have been very courageous and kind since then to nearly everyone you meet. I've heard a lot from my handmaidens. You are quite the charmer as well, as I've come to understand?"

There was humor in her voice, and I forced back a grimace at the mention of my….. Admirers….

"You both are too kind, your majesties. I was not alone in saving the children, and I only did what was right for my sister. Had the positions been reversed, I'm certain she would have tried to save me as well." I replied evenly. "And as for the charm, I shall let your majesties be the judges."

The King laughed, "Yes, my Musketeers are excellent at teamwork. But that doesn't change the fact you very nearly died. Weren't you out for… What was it… A week?"

I dipped my head, "Yes, your majesty."

"Then no need to be so humble! You've surely earned that glory then! Also, I've heard from many of the maids around the castle you're quite a catch." The King's tone was warm, and it almost felt as if he was teasing me as one would a friend.

I stifled an embarrassed cough, but the heat was climbing up my neck. "I wouldn't know, you're majesty."

"Hmm. Let me see your face, Rogue." He commanded.

Since it was an order, I raised my head, straightening my back. When I rose my eyes, I found both of them staring at my face appraisingly.

"Hmm. I think he would be quite a catch." The Queen murmured, "He does have a pretty face to look at."

"But not as much as I, right darling?" The King asked her.

She quickly soothed over his worry by smiling kindly at him, "Of course. None can match my King."

I wanted to gag, but instead schooled my features into a neutral expression.

The King turned back to me, musing, "Your eyes are such an intriguing color. Do most Welsh people have such vivid eyes?"

I tilted my head, putting on my 'I'm a confused puppy' look, "Your majesty?"

He waved his hand dismissively, "Oh, nothing. Just a young Countess who visited a month ago for another ball. She had such interesting blue eyes as well. I was curious whether or not it was the same with all of you."

I was so glad I had cut my hair, and that my face had hardened more.

I dipped my head, "In answer to your question, your majesty, all the Welsh people I've known have interesting eyes. No matter the color."

The King considered this, "Interesting. Are all eyes in your country dark, then?"

I tilted my head, considering his question, "No. I've known many people who have very light colored eyes."

"Ah. Of course." The King nodded, as if he already knew that. "Perhaps you lived in the same region then?"

"I would not know, your majesty. I have not met any noble people of Wales before. I was the son of a blacksmithing family. We didn't interact with people of great importance much. And if a noble family did contact us for swords or decorative weapons, my father was the one who spoke with them."

"So are we the only royalty you have met?" The King asked with a gleeful air.

I smiled at him, "Face to face, indeed, your majesty." Lie. But hey, technically, the King of England hadn't really seen my face. I was too fast for his stupid brain to follow.

The King laughed, "And what do you think?"

"If all royalty is as great as your majesties, then the world is in very good hands." I said charmingly, and saw a flash of approval from Treville.

The King straightened himself, adopting a serious expression that almost made him look like a noble king, then he was grinning again like a boy. "You are wise, Rogue, truly. Something I take it you learned from your father. Was he a good man, like yourself?"

I smiled, fighting off bitterness, "He was wiser, your highness. He was good, just, and noble. He helped all those who needed it, and protected innocence with his life. He was one of the greatest men I have ever known."

"I'm certain he would be very proud of you." The Queen told me with honesty and maternal kindness shining in her face.

I ducked my head, a blush coating my cheeks, "You are too kind, truly. I do not think he'd be as proud as I aspire him to be of me. His teachings are what inspire me to protect others."

The King leaned forward in interest, "And what exactly did he teach you, Rogue?" I remembered then that the King hadn't really known his own father, which would explain why there was curiosity in his eyes, as well as slight jealousy.

Treville thankfully cut in then, "My apologies your majesty, but Rogue has duties to attend to. He is supposed to continue patrolling the area to keep your guests safe."

The King leaned back, disappointment clear in his eyes, "Yes. Yes. I do suppose we can no longer keep you from that, now can we?"

I bowed my head, "It was truly a pleasure to meet your majesties."

"As to you." The Queen told me kindly. "Perhaps we can talk on a later date?"

The King perked up at that, clapping his hands, "That's a splendid idea! What say you, Rogue? After this is over, would you mind being summoned to the palace?"

I shook my head, "Of course not, your majesty. It would be an honor to talk more with both of you."

The King nodded, obviously pleased with himself, "Splendid!" Then he straightened, making his face impassive and commanding, "Now. Return to your duties, recruit." Then he leaned towards me slightly, his mask cracking, "How was that?"

I fought back a smirk, "Superb. I shall do as your highness commands." I bowed lowly, then straightened and turned to Treville.

He dipped his head, commanding, "Continue your patrol. You are not to be seen, only to observe. Should you encounter anyone you should not, report it to other Musketeers if possible. If not, you are free to use whatever methods you need."

I dipped my head to him, bowed once more to their majesties, then whipped around, stalking back to the shadows, cape billowing out behind me.


	5. Chapter 5

The night was wearing on, and I was ready to go home. Away from all this glittery people who were… Tiring, after a while. I, thankfully, didn't have to deal with them. I did, however, have to deal with the Red Guards, who were stationed on all the entrances. The Musketeers were the ones posted at the edges of the crowd, and around their majesties.

Since I was in the shadows, I also had to pass the Red Guards. Mostly, they had left me alone, if they saw me at all. But a few recognized me, and taunted me as I passed them.

I was passing by a column, when something caught my eye. I immediately pressed myself to the wall and watched the column with rapt attention.

There! Something moved.

I narrowed my eyes, and my lips curled in a snarl as I saw a man, a very tall, strong looking man, hiding in the shadows, a flintlock in his hand that was currently being pointed to the Queen.

I looked around, trying to see if he had any companions. Hopefully not. Treville was standing right next to the King, so he would receive a bullet, probably, if someone else was targeting the King. But the Queen, who had the Cardinal standing behind her, would have no such guard.

I leapt forward as he began to pull the trigger.

I grabbed his hand, jerking the barrel away from any innocents, and a loud bang echoed through the room as the pistol fired. Black smoke rose up and I heard the sound of the bullet hitting a wall.

The man roared in anger, swinging at me. I tried to bring my hand up, but his arm rammed into the side of my head before I could defend myself.

Dazed, I couldn't stop him as he grabbed my shoulder, picked me up as screams echoed around us, and threw me into the center of the room.

I slid on the marble floor, then saw that the doors had been forced open and more people were coming inside.

My fellow Musketeers were rushing to meet them, and the Red Guards attempted to fight.

The guests were screaming and rushing off of the dance floor, and the Inseparables plus Treville were getting their Majesties and the Cardinal behind the dais to protect them better with a wall behind their backs.

Past that, I didn't really see because of the man quickly advancing on me. The man looked Spanish, and was very angry with me.

He lunged at me, and I rolled away from him. He skidded on the slick floor, and I took that opportunity to draw my sword as more men rushed at me.

I leapt away from a sword that very nearly cut my chest open, and disarmed the man who had swung at me. There was four of them around me, and more on the way.

I knew that if they could, my four friends would be helping me. But their duties lied with protecting the King and Queen.

I twirled and jumped, dancing along the floor much like the guests had been doing earlier.

Then someone popped up behind me faster than I could comprehend it, and I stumbled.

The momentary loss of balance was enough for my sword to get knocked out of my hand and people grabbed my arms.

Someone slammed their fist into my ribcage, and I bent over, coughing harshly. Then someone hit the side of my face, and blood flooded my mouth as my cheek was sliced by my teeth.

The people holding my arms forced them backwards, and someone grabbed my hat, ripping it off of my head and curling their fingers through my short hair.

My head was jerked up and I was left in a very uncomfortable position.

Now that I could focus on my surroundings, I saw that I was facing their majesties and their guards. Treville was staring at me with a neutral mask, but I could read the wariness in his eyes as he stared at me.

My four friends looked like they wanted to rush at me to help, but they held their positions.

About 5 people littered the ground around me, all fallen from my hand, and my Musketeer brothers had been drug into the hallways, fighting off about 20 more people. The Red Guards were nowhere to be seen.

Then a knife was placed at the base of my neck, and I was suddenly staring into the frightened eyes of the Queen. She quickly looked away, her jaw set.

"Hello, Capitan." The man behind me sneered, his accent was Spanish.

Treville glared at him, and the man continued, "A few months ago, you came into possession of a very important letter. We need to know the contents."

"What makes you think I shall tell you anything?" Treville commanded, drawing up to his full height and looking at the five men surrounding me. Two held my arms tightly, outstretched behind me and straining my shoulders, one behind me holding my head and the knife, and two more flanking the three of them.

Childs play.

"Oh, I've heard you are quite fond of your Musketeers. Are you not? I assume you are a wonderful Capitan, so here's what I'll do. If you tell me the contents of the letter, I won't slice his pretty little neck." The Spaniard promised with a snarl. "If you do not," I could feel him shrug, "Well, you'll be out of a supposed hero."

I caught Athos' eye, smirking at him. I rolled my eyes, and saw all of the people staring at me stiffen.

Athos looked subtly towards Treville, who realized something was going on, then dipped his head to me.

I gave them a wicked grin, then swept my leg out behind me. I kicked the man with the knife between his legs, and he gave a chocked gasp, the knife digging into my throat.

With him momentarily distracted, I jerked my head backwards, connecting with his nose, which gave a harsh 'crack!' and he released me, the knife clattering to the ground.

Then I drew my arms in, throwing the two people holding them off balance. I pitched my weight backwards, allowing my shoulders reprieve, until my arms were parallel to my body.

Then I jerked my hands inward, and the two people holding me slid on the floor towards me.

I elbowed one in the face, making him release my arm, then I swung my arm back and punched the remaining one in the throat. He went down easily, and I ducked a sword as it swung above my head.

I twisted my body and grabbed the hilt of said sword, slamming my other hand into the man's wrist and felt the bone snap. I jerked the sword from his hand, quickly slashed his chest, then whipped around and slammed my boot onto the other man's chest. I felt the ribs snap beneath my foot, and I lunged forward, putting the sword in his stomach.

I ducked just in time before a fist connected with my face, and swung around, drawing a dagger from my belt and slashing down his chest and stomach. I kicked him away and threw my dagger at the last remaining man not knocked out.

I brushed my gloves off, wiped the blood from my mouth, and walked over to my sword.

It was then that the 10 Musketeers who had been stationed at the party rushed back into the room. Past them, I could see that men littered the floor. But there was no Red Guards around.

Cowards, the lot of them. Unless they were dead. In that case, _au revoir._

I sheathed my black sword and Aramis took the sudden safety as an opportunity to rush towards me.

He slid to a stop in front of me, putting one hand up to cradle my cheek, where a bruise was forming. Then he gently began pushing against my ribs, testing them.

I batted his hand away, giving him an easy smile, closed lipped, "Aramis, I'm fine. No broken ribs, nothing else injured except for my cheek. But that'll be fine with time. I didn't puncture anything." I insisted as he gave me a worried look. I rolled my eyes, then jerked my head to the King and Queen, who were being fussed over by Treville and the Cardinal. "You can check me later. I promise. But I don't want to freak them out more than necessary."

With a sigh, he dipped his head. "Fine, but if you are injured and I find out, I will tie you to your bed and not allow you to move."

I smirked, "I understand." Then I kicked one of the men near me lightly, "What letter anyway? Do you know anything about it?"

Aramis bit his lip, "Well, they are Spaniards. It is possible…."

Before he could continue, the King's voice rang out. "Rogue!"

I turned around to face him, and bowed quickly as I realized he was striding towards me.

He stopped in front of me, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Aramis' face alight with glee, then he quickly stepped away.

"Rogue Dieithr." The King spoke, "Kneel."

Blood rushed in my ears. Was he going to…..?

I dropped to one knee, then a sword point was at my shoulder.

"I, King of France, hereby induct you, Rogue Dieithr, into the Musketeer force." His voice rang in my ears, and I found it hard to breath. "You have shown great courage and passion in doing your duty. You are worthy of my Musketeers. Arise, Musketeer Dieithr."

I rose on shaking legs, raising my head to look at the King, who looked very pleased with himself.

I bowed my head, speaking with charm and excitement that I couldn't hide, "Thank you. I vow to live up to the Musketeer legacy, My King."

"I should think so." He said smugly, "What with the teachers you have."

Then he turned, striding away, "Now then. That's done with. Captain! I expect you to find out why these Spanish men were here, and what letter they spoke of."

"Yes, your majesty." Treville said humbly, then motioned for several Musketeers to escort their Majesties out and the Cardinal.

Then he stopped beside Anne, and held out his hand, "Darling, shall we leave this horrid scene?"

She nodded shakily, casting me a look, before accepting his hand.

With another order, he commanded the remaining Musketeers to get the bodies of the men, if they were alive, to the jail cells. If they were dead, then they needed to dispose of the bodies.

He kept my four friends from leaving, and I looked at my friends with surprise evident on my face.

Aramis strode to me, a wide grin set on his face, and clapped my shoulder, laughing. "Well done! Our little Rogue is now an official Musketeer!"

Treville gave me a small smile, "Well, that will either magnify my headaches or relieve me of some of them. When you are finished celebrating," He turned to Athos, sobering, "Meet me in my office. All of you. We have much to discuss. And get him," He pointed at me, "A pauldron." Then he strode out as the other three rushed towards me. Smiles on their faces and laughter in the air.


	6. Chapter 6

Apparently, Athos had already known I'd be a full fledged Musketeer someday, because he already had a leather pauldron for me. We had gone back to his lodgings to retrieve it, with all four of them expressing their excitement for me and my ears still ringing with the King's words.

I was a Musketeer. A real Musketeer!

Those words kept replaying in my head as I tied the pauldron to my shoulder (Which was black), with the help of Aramis and Porthos.

I grinned broadly at them, childlike excitement shining in my eyes.

The shock finally wore off once I moved my arm to feel the leather move with me, and I leapt in the air with a cheer. "I'm a Musketeer!" I shouted cheerfully.

Aramis, Porthos, and D'art laughed at my antics, and Athos smirked at me.

I sobered, but couldn't keep the grin off of my face. "Also, you all still look like fairies."

Porthos growled good naturedly at me, and Athos nodded. "All of you, go get dressed in more appropriate wear. We meet at the Garrison within the hour. Now get out of my house." But his eyes twinkled.

We all began to filter out of his house, but he caught my arm right before I left. "Well done, Rogue. You deserve that pauldron." He told me seriously, his blue eyes warm.

I grinned happily at him, a blush rising on my cheeks. "Thank you, Athos. Truly. For more than the pauldron. I have much to thank you for."

He released my arm with a smirk, "Well, I'll hold you to that debt. You can repay me by being a good Musketeer."

I smiled at him, "With you four with me, I think I'll be able to do that."

He tilted his head as Aramis shouted for me, "I expect so."

M

I shifted as Treville paced in front of us. I was now dressed in my normal clothing, with the newly added pauldron on my arm. The leather was stiff, but I knew the more I wore it, the more flexible it would get.

"We have spoken to one of the Spaniards." Treville finally began, "And after some convincing, he informed us about a letter that was intercepted a few months ago. A group of Spaniards were journeying past the French border, and a border patrol apprehended them. The border patrol found a letter among their persons, and read it. What they found was information of a secret lover, falsified of course, of the Queen's. If that letter was found by the king, then the Queen could have been executed. I decided that the letter must be sent, among another, to the supposed lover, a powerful military leader who lives near the border of England and France. Because of the nature of the letter, he deserved to know that the Spanish were targeting him, so he could prepare. I've fought with the man, he's saved my life more than once, I wanted to return the favor and protect the Queen. I sent you four to deliver the letter to him. Two as a diversion, two with the actual letter."

Aramis suddenly looked at me in surprise, "That's when we first met you." He said.

"Wait, you mean that this letter is the reason I was kidnapped? Why I was drug from England to France? Was because of a letter that Spain had. Who were they intending for it to go to? And why are they so set upon getting it now?" I asked, stepping forward slightly.

Treville set his jaw, "The letter also stated that there was several spies in France's midst. All of which we can assume are true. If these spies were found, then Spain would lose valuable information, and valuable spies. They don't care about the Queen's rumors, they care about their men who are still in France's midst. The Militia leader has been inducting his own investigations, and has found two of three supposed spies already. There is one left, and he is apparently a very important one."

Athos tilted his head, "I have a feeling you are about to order us on another mission."

"You are correct." Treville nodded. "I want you five to hunt down this remaining spy, and get rid of him before he relays any information he might have to the Spanish."

Athos nodded, "Yes Captain. Do we have a place to begin our search?"

Treville nodded, "Orleans is where my military friend has tracked him down to. He would offer his assistance, but he has a different mission to take care of now that I've assured him my best Musketeers are taking over."

Athos nodded, "Parameters?"

Treville sighed, "None. Just don't get arrested, stay together, and don't die."

"Can we try a 2 out of 3?" I asked, trying to lighten the mood.

It worked halfway, and Treville gave me an exasperated sigh, "Just so long as you don't die."

I grinned, "Wonderful."

M

We were packed and ready to go, but we were waiting for D'artagnan to return.

I sighed, leaning my head against the table.

"Suppose he and Constance are trading goodbye kisses?" Aramis asked in boredom.

"She is still married." Athos reminded him.

Aramis scoffed, "But it's obvious they don't love each other. He sure as hell doesn't love Constance like D'artagnan. A blind man could see that."

I raised my head to smirk at him, "Right, because you are the king of devotion."

He scowled at me, "I'm sure that if the right woman came into my life, I'd never look at someone like that again."

I perked up, "Hang on. I do recall that you haven't had anyone over for a while…"

Porthos grinned at Aramis, "Find someone already then, did you?"

Aramis' cheeks began to grow red, but before he could attempt to reply, a shout rang through the Garrison.

"Help!"

All of us leapt to our feet, whipping around to see the person who shouted, because we all knew that voice.

It was D'artagnan.

His face was pale, and even as he ran towards us, I could see him shaking. He held a piece of paper tightly in his hand, and he was sprinting towards us.

"Constance! She! They! Her husband!" He shouted, drawing shaky breaths.

Athos caught him, holding his shoulders in a way that should have been comforting, but I doubted D'artagnan was far past the point of being able to accept comfort.

"What are you on about?" Aramis asked.

In reply, D'art shoved the piece of paper at him, still shaking and pale.

I read the letter over Aramis' shoulder, and on it read:

 _If you want your female companion returned to you unharmed, come to this location. Bring the letter your capitan has gotten. You may bring one companion, past that and we shall kill your amiga._

There was a scrawled location on the bottom of it, and a stamp with a Spanish flower.

The location was the exact opposite of the place of the place we were supposed to go.

"Her husband is dead." D'artagnan said, still pale and eyes wide with fear.

He grabbed Athos' arms with urgency, "We have to go after her, Athos. We must!"

Athos snatched the letter away from Aramis, and his eyes danced over it, hardening in anger.

"We have a mission." Athos said finally. D'artagnan seemed to deflate at that, before drawing up in anger, about to start yelling, but Athos silenced him by continuing. "However. I'm certain the three of us can accomplish it alone." He said, flicking his eyes over Porthos and Aramis. "While you and Rogue rescue Constance."

D'artagnan sighed in relief, and looked up at me with hopeful eyes. I gave him a smile, trying to suppress the anger in my own eyes. "Of course I'll help you get Constance back, she's my friend too."

Aramis sighed, scrubbing at his face. "Well. This has been eventful, and we haven't even left Paris yet."

Athos nodded, "Was there anything else in the house?"

D'artagnan shook his head, "No. Just Constance's husband, dead by the fireplace, and several knocked over things."

Athos pinched the bridge of his nose, "Very well. I shall inform Treville. He can send someone over to conduct a further investigation, and get it cleaned up. In the meantime," He pinned D'artagnan and I with his icy blue eyes, "Don't die. Stay together. And bring Constance home safely. The woman is capable of shutting D'artagnan up, that is something we must not lose."

He was trying to lighten the mood, but the very fact that Athos had just made a joke now of all times, left us all staring after him as he handed D'artagnan back the location and began to walk away. Calling over his shoulder, "Aramis, Porthos, be prepared to leave once I get back."

With that, I turned quickly, grabbing my saddle bag and slinging it over my shoulder. I clapped Porthos shoulder in a farewell, then hugged Aramis quickly, before running after D'artagnan to our horses.


	7. Chapter 7

As we walked through the town, having already left our horses in a stable, I couldn't help but feel incredibly antsy.

People stared at our pauldrons as we walked past them in the market place, then skirted away from us. Even in a place that wasn't known for trouble knew that if Musketeers were in town, something bad had happened, and they didn't want any part of it.

Children pointed at us, grins on their faces as they shouted, "Cool!" but their mothers quickly drug them away before they could approach us, glaring at us mistrustfully.

"Well, they certainly are warm here, aren't they?" I asked wryly.

D'artagnan gave me a sidelong glance, then shrugged. He had hardly spoken on the ride here, which had taken us all day, surprisingly. I was worried about him, even if the worry for Constance was taking center stage. Her husband had been killed, single musket shot to the back of the head, and based on what I had seen before we had left, it was an executioner style shot. He hadn't even had the chance to fight back.

What had happened with Constance? She had obviously fought back, because of the chaos that shrouded the room like smoke. Tables and chairs were on their sides, and there were nail marks on the side of a door frame that if I had to guess, was where Constance had tried to stop her attackers from dragging her.

I looked around, focusing more on the people who could have passed for inconspicuous.

Then I began to notice that they weren't all Frenchman.

A few were standing around, speaking to each other, and I could read their lips as we passed. They weren't speaking French, they were speaking Spanish. Had we been anywhere more south, that wouldn't have been too big of an issue. But this far north? You'd sooner meet more people speaking English than you would Spanish.

And there was a lot of them in the street too, from my count, based on their clothing and reading their lips, there was about 20 Spanishmen dotted about the entire market place. And that was only the ones I could see.

I nonchalantly placed my hand on my sword hilt, smiling amiably at a passing merchant. The motion wasn't enough to set off anyone's alarms, and it looked more like I was just resting my hand there.

Snow swirled through the streets, and the wind picked up.

I could see several of the Spaniards reaching for hidden weapons, and I waited as long as I could. Then the wind picked up violently, and snow swirled into the air, creating a thick barricade.

I grabbed D'artagnan's arm and shoved him into an alleyway.

He was about to start yelling at me, but I started to drag him through the alley. "Run! There are Spaniards in the streets! They aren't planning on letting us get close to Constance! Move!"

D'artagnan picked up his speed so he was running with me, instead of being drug by me, and we heard shouting behind us. The Spaniards had found us.

We ducked around a corner and ran into a dead end.

D'artagnan turned, about to draw his sword, but I grabbed his arm and pointed up.

He gave me a confused look and I rolled my eyes.

I leapt upwards, grabbing hold of a lantern hook, and climbed up the wall. I used loose bricks and hooks to vault upwards, until I was on top of the building.

I looked behind me, thankful to see D'artagnan climbing up behind me, then threw a smoke bomb onto the ground to shroud us a bit more.

It exploded in white smoke, and the wind chose that time to pick up, throwing more snow and ice into the mix.

I squinted through it all, and reached out to D'artagnan. Apparently just in time.

His foot slipped on the icy wall, and he began to fall.

I fell onto my stomach and grabbed his arm. He dangled in the air for a moment, gasping in pain as he connected harshly to the wall. I drug him up enough so his other hand could grab ahold of the side of the roof.

With my help, he managed to get onto the roof.

We sat there for a minute, getting our breaths back, before we rose to our feet.

I started to creep along the icy roof, but suddenly slammed into it as D'artagnan tackled me from behind, just as a gunshot rang through the air.

I looked over my shoulder as D'artagnan rolled of me and he pointed to another roof, "Shooters. We need to get off of here." He muttered, then started to crawl away.

I followed after him, thankful that at least some of his mind had stayed with him. Honestly, I'd need to talk with Constance about giving him the other ¾ of his intelligence back, it wasn't fair for her to confiscate it every time he had an idea that almost got he and I killed. Aramis too occasionally. But if Aramis went, then Porthos wouldn't be far behind. And if all four of us were doing something stupid, Athos showed up at exactly the time when said stupid thing blew up in our faces, drug us out of the rubble, and proceeded to give us to Constance. Who was terrifying with a broomstick.

I hope we can get her back.

I crawled after D'artagnan as more gunshots echoed around us. We got to the edge of the roof and I looked down, "We won't have much time to get away." I warned.

The building ended at a busy street, so if we got lost in the throng, then we might have a chance.

"Can you call your horse? I can call mine once we hit the ground." D'artagnan said confidently.

I nodded, "Yeah. He somehow always manages to hear me."

D'artagnan nodded, preparing to jump down. Then he froze, his muscles tensing. I looked around for anyone close to us, but still only saw the one shooter, who was staring in our direction, waiting.

"What?" I hissed.

He turned to me then with such a broken expression that my heart fractured. "What if…." He ducked his head, and I was surprised when tear drops hit the roof. "What if they see us, and hurt Constance?"

I grabbed his arm tightly, "D'artagnan, they will kill us if they catch us. They want to kill us, then get the 'letter' they think we have. If they catch us, they'll kill Constance too. We will find her, but we can't do that if we're dead or shot."

He nodded, "Yeah. Yeah, you're right."

I dipped my head, then grabbed another smoke bomb. I threw it onto the roof and waited as the smoke built up. The wind was still blowing, so the natural snow tornados helped our cover.

I still had D'artagnan's arm in my grip, so I pulled him closer to the edge. "Ready?" I asked.

"Not really." He muttered back.

I offered him a small smile, "Me neither. But! Sounds like fun anyway. So here we go!"

I jumped into a crouch, which was quickly copied by D'artagnan, and we leapt off the rooftop.


	8. Chapter 8

I hit the ground hard, and shoulder rolled forward. D'artagnan had landed in a wagon of some kind, and whatever had been holding it there had broken when he had slammed into it. And, because we were on an incline, the wagon, plus D'artagnan, began rolling down the hill.

Thankfully, the wagon hadn't been physically attached to anything. However, a rope had been trailing behind it. I had apparently rolled right on top of it, so when I leapt to my feet to run after D'artagnan, who had comically popped his head up when he began to roll away, my foot landed directly in the center of a loop.

When the rope had gone taunt with the heavy wagon currently rolling down the icy street, the loop tightened around my ankle, and because of the ice surrounding me, I found no purchase to steady myself, and my legs were jerked out from underneath me.

I began to skid down the hill, following the wayward wagon as D'artagnan tried to stand long enough to jump out but the bumps on the road did him no favors.

And, despite how painfully obvious we were, the fact that my leg was caught in a rope so I was being drug down the street, and that I had my hat tightly held in my hand to avoid losing it, I couldn't help but laugh.

D'artagnan, bouncing in the wooden death trap, stared at me incredulously, but chuckled too at the trouble we had landed ourselves in that shouldn't have been possible. And it wouldn't have been, if not for ice, a rope, and a poor jump.

D'artagnan attempted to whistle, and finally managed a piercing whistle for a few seconds, which would be enough to call his horse.

I repeated the action a bit better, since I wasn't really bouncing as I was sliding, and heard the answering neigh.

Darkness had fallen quickly during our chase, and the snow storm was black with snow and ice, so we saw no one as we skidded down the street, laughing.

Then we caught air, and D'artagnan was almost sent out of the wagon. My ribs were jarred harshly against the ground as I slammed back onto it, and I groaned. I am no longer having all that much fun.

Another bump sent me flying, and this time I came down painfully on my shoulder. I gritted my teeth and began trying to get to the rope.

A rock was sent my way by the wheel, and it scraped along my cheekbone. D'artagnan might lose his breakfast, but if I didn't get off of the ride, or into the wagon, I was headed to breaking something.

Fast.

We couldn't really be that far from the end of the street, right? We had to stop sometime.

D'artagnan looked ahead of us, then dived to the side of the wagon where the other end of the rope was tied. He began attempting to untie it in a frenzy, and the next time I caught air, I realized why.

We were coming on the end of the street, and the street ended with a solid brick wall. We had already gotten a fair amount of speed, so if we hit that while we were still in the wagon, the force of the hit could seriously injure us.

I could hear our horses thundering towards us, but they wouldn't be able to help us now.

The wagon caught air again, and D'artagnan flipped over the side of the wagon, landing on his back on the street, safely out of harms way.

He leapt to his feet quickly and began chasing after me.

I scowled at the ridiculousness of it all, I was about to be killed by a wagon and a rope. The rope wasn't even around my neck! It was on my boot!

My boot…

I mentally smacked myself for not thinking of it earlier.

With my free foot, I began to kick at my boot, trying to get it to come off.

I caught air once more, gaining more height than I ever had, and my boot popped off.

I slammed into the ground, sliding a few more feet before stopping, and the wagon rammed into the wall.

Wood flew everywhere from the collision, and I was very thankful D'artagnan nor I was on it.

Speaking of…

D'artagnan tried to stop as he neared me, but his foot slipped and he wound of falling on top of me.

I groaned in pain as he jarred my bruised ribs, and he huffed a sigh of relief.

"We're alive." He muttered, not showing any signs of getting off of me.

I groaned again, hearing our horses come to a stop huffing and puffing behind us. "Yeah. But we really need adult supervision apparently."

"Athos supervision." D'artagnan agreed breathlessly.

Then he moved to kneel beside me, and I propped myself up on my arms, putting my hat back onto my head. I stared at the wagon, then looked up at D'artagnan.

We stared at each other for another second, before bursting into laughter.

When I had relatively gotten my breath back, I said, "That was, by far, the stupidest way we have almost gotten ourselves killed."

He nodded tiredly, leaning against my shoulder. "Yes. A wagon and a rope. In any other context, that would actually sound like a viable option. But the way we did it…."

"Sounds like us, actually." I noted.

D'artagnan laughed breathlessly. Then we both jumped as a door slammed open, bathing us in a warm orange light amongst the cold white ice surrounding us.


	9. Chapter 9

I blinked in surprise, and the horses jumped.

A man appeared, and behind him was a woman. Both of them were wrapped in cloaks, and had blankets.

"Oh dear! Are you two alright?" A kind woman's voice asked us.

"Not really the time of day to go joyriding, don't you think?" The man asked dryly, stepping into the street.

He was built well, with lean muscles and a hard edge to him. He had a beard, and his hands were that of a workman's hands.

His wife, or what I'm assuming was his wife, was soft, her hair cascaded around her shoulders and the pale blondeness swirled around her in the wind.

"Well don't just sit there! Get inside!" The man barked.

His voice jolted both of us, and D'artagnan rose to his feet. I tried to follow, but my now bootless foot cried out in pain and I almost fell over again. But the man was suddenly beside me.

He grabbed my shoulders before I fell and muttered gruffly, "I suppose I gotta go find your boot now, don't I? Here, lad, take your friend inside."

He shoved me at D'artagnan, who staggered on the ice to hold me up. He slung my arm over his shoulder and said, "We couldn't possible force ourselves into your home, Monsieur."

The man glowered at him, and with the orange light still being cast into the street I could see half of his kind face. "You aren't forcing yourself anywhere, lad. We're offering. Now get inside before you freeze! I'll take your horses to the stables out back and get his boot."

His wife shuffled into the street, shoving a blanket around us, cloaks and all, and began pushing us inside.

D'artagnan and I exchanged glances as we were herded inside. The thought to break off and just jump onto our horses crossed my mind, but the man was already leading them to a building right beside his lodging. We both still had our weapons, so we should be able to take the man. His wife didn't seem like she'd be an issue, she was thinly built and willowy. But her grip on my arm wasn't weak, so she was still quite strong.

Either way, she was already dragging me through the door, and by extension, D'artagnan. So our decision was already made.

Plus, neither of us could say the warm crackle of a fire greeting us wasn't good on our cold faces.

M

I sat on a chair, facing the fire, holding a cloth wrapped around snow to my cheek, which had swelled and had begun to bleed sluggishly thanks to the flying rock. Not to mention I hadn't given it enough time to heal after the earlier tussle with the Spaniards in Paris.

D'artagnan was sitting on the ground beside me, wrapped tightly in three blankets, facing the fire.

Our cloaks and hats hung by the door, but the woman of the house, whose name was Charlotte, had let us keep our weapons provided they stay sheathed. Her husband was still out in the street looking for my boot, and his name was Henry.

They had both heard the racket we had caused, and after looking out the window to see us just sitting there, they had gone out to help.

When she realized we were Musketeers, she was bustling around her house, cleaning things that had been even just the slightest bit messy. I wanted to laugh, since Aramis and I weren't exactly the tidiest people, though we did keep the house moderately clean, so the slight clutter didn't bother me. But I did have some sense, and I knew it was rude to laugh a woman in her own home.

She had given us snow packs for our swelling areas, then she had bustled off to get tea.

Their house was quint, but nice. And there was several items of clothing dotting the house, some completely made on stands, and some still in pieces. I had seen that enough to know that she must have been a seamstress. It reminded me painfully of Constance, and apparently it reminded D'artagnan too.

But he had done his best to help Charlotte before she ordered him to go and get himself warm.

She couldn't have been very old, I'd have to guess 29 at most, but the look in her green eyes, and on her face, she was a mother or an aunt. Plus, there were signs of a child all around the house.

Henry finally came back in at around the time Charlotte was coming in with a pot of tea and a steaming bowl of warm water.

He held up my boot in his hands, then set it beside me. "What's a lad like you doing with all those knives, then?" He asked in his deep voice.

Charlotte set the tray she was carrying down and pulled up a chair in front of me, "Henry! These two are Musketeers!" She told him, before yanking my foot into her lap, to my surprise.

I nearly fell off of my own chair, then hissed in pain as she put a hot cloth on my aching foot.

Normally, I wore thick socks, but I hadn't put them on earlier, something I greatly regretted now.

The icy road had scraped my foot, and had hiked up my pants, which caused some of my calf to be bleeding as well.

Henry immediately sobered, "Ah. My apologies then."

D'artagnan snorted, offering a kind smile to our helper, "No, you can ask him why he has so many knives. We've known him for months and we still don't know."

I scowled at D'artagnan, throwing my snow pack at his head. He scowled at me, rubbing his head ruefully where the pack has struck him.

Charlotte paused her ministrations to openly stare at us in confusion.

I shifted self-consciously as they both stared at us, and D'artagnan finally asked, "Have we done something to offend you? If so, we are very sorry."

Charlotte shook her head, going back to putting a paste on my foot, and Henry sat down in a big armchair near us.

"No, it wasn't that." Charlotte said finally, "We were just confused. You are both Musketeers, but you act so….."

"Childlike?" I asked wryly, "Trust me, you wouldn't be the first to say. However, doing what we do, dealing with the problems we do, if we aren't allowed to have fun ever once and a while, we'd drive ourselves insane. Plus, what's the point of never having fun?"

Henry smirked at me, but didn't say anything.

Charlotte finally finished torturing my foot, and she wrapped it tightly with clean white cloth. "Take care of this for the next few days, and you'll be fine."

I smiled at her, "Thank you very much, Madame."

She smiled back at me, patting my cheek affectionately, like one would a small child, and turned, pouring a cup of tea.

She pressed it into my hands, and I was shocked at the smell that hit me from it.

"This is English tea." I muttered, holding it closer to my face.

Charlotte looked pleasantly surprised as she paused pouring a second cup, "You are correct, Musketeer. Though I'm surprised you knew."

I waved my hand, taking a long drink of the pleasant English tea, "Rogue is my name, Madame. Please do use it. Also, I was in England for a long time before I came to France."

Charlotte handed D'artagnan the cup as he murmured his own name and his thanks, and she smiled at me. "Are you from England then?"

I shook my head, "No. Wales. But England was nice. Are you from England, Charlotte? You're accent is a mix between English and French, so I can't decide."

Charlotte smiled happily, handing her husband his own cup of tea. "I was born in England, Rogue, but when I met Henry, I moved here to be with him in France. I have to say that I like it better, the people are often friendlier."

I smiled at her, taking another sip. "I agree. They certainly are interesting, but that could be that I just haven't lived here my whole life like they have."

D'artagnan made a noise, but didn't do much more other than throwing a smirk over his shoulder at me. At least he was feeling a bit better.

After that, we talked about mundane things, like how Henry was a baker, and that they had a son named Charles.

They didn't ask what had happened with us, or why we were here, and we didn't tell them. Both of us silently agreed to leave first thing in the morning, we didn't want the Spaniards getting their hands on such a nice family.


	10. Chapter 10

I woke up feeling that I was being watched. The feeling made my skin crawl, and I burst upwards, flipping over the chair I had been sleeping on.

I heard a shout of surprise, then a thud.

My vision came back, and I saw D'artagnan was laying on the floor instead of the couch, blinking stars from his eyes.

There was also a little boy, who had fallen against the wall, and he was staring up at me with wide green eyes. He had dark brown hair and vibrant green eyes, and he looked like a younger, smaller, version of Henry with Charlotte's eyes.

Charlotte rushed into the living room, and laughed at us. Then she bustled over to the little boy, helping him to his feet as I picked D'artagnan up.

I smiled sheepishly at D'artagnan, murmuring what had happened. I had panicked because a little boy had been staring at me, so he had fallen off his impromptu bed when the noise had jarred him awake.

The little boy, who couldn't have been older than eight, was still staring at me with wide eyes as he hid partially behind his mother.

Charlotte drew her fingers through his curly hair fondly, then pointed to us, "These are the Musketeers I told you about earlier. That one is Rogue, and that one is D'artagnan."

I waved sheepishly as D'artagnan crouched, smiling at the little boy.

Charlotte looked up at us with a smile, "Musketeers, this is my son, Adam."

D'artagnan smiled brightly at him, "Hello Adam." He extended his hand towards the boy, who cautiously began stepping out from behind his mother.

He looked up at me warily, and pointed towards me, "You are scary." He concluded.

I gasped in mock distress as Charlotte gently reprimanded him.

I crouched down beside D'artagnan, "Really? Cause I think you're scary too." I teased the boy. D'artagnan bumped his elbow against mine, subtly teasing me about being frightened of a little boy so much I acted like a startled cat.

He looked at me incredulously, awe beginning to light his eyes. "R….Really? But, you're big…. And stronger than me."

I tilted my head as D'artagnan asked, "What does that have to do with anything? I'd say you're quite the little fighter if you want to be."

The boy perked up, getting excited. Then he walked over to us, taking D'artagnan's still extended hand and shaking it as hard as he could. D'artagnan's lips quirked up in a fond smile. I smiled at D'artagnan, he'd make a good father someday. And I think he wanted a family of his own, if it was with Constance.

I think she wanted children too, and I know she'd love them with D'artagnan.

We just had to find her first.

As D'artagnan started chatting with Adam, I stood up and slipped on my boots.

I smiled at Charlotte, and she gestured for me to follow her to the kitchen.

I walked in behind her and she closed the door, then she turned to me and said, "I have a feeling you're about to tell me you need to leave."

I dipped my head, "You are correct. My companion and I are here to save a friend."

Charlotte didn't look as surprised as I expected her to be, then she stepped forward slightly, lowering her voice to a hush. "I know who you are." She murmured.

I tilted my head in confusion, I had already told her my name, so….?

"You're the Horseman of Death." She stated, looking up at me. "I remember your face being on the wanted posters where I used to live. I always thought what you did was heroic, that's why I helped you last night before I realized you were a Musketeer. You saved so many people, I wanted to return the favor."

Then she stepped back and waltzed to the counter as if she hadn't made my heart lodge itself in my throat. I quickly shook out of the daze and studied her, "Are you going to tell anyone about it?"

Charlotte laughed, "Don't have to. Most people have started to hear….. Whispers… About the four horsemen coming to France. Now that I know you are here, I think I have a good idea where the other three are as well. And if all four of you are here, than perhaps we might be in better hands than we thought."

I swallowed past the lump in my throat, coughing awkwardly, "We are all in France yes, but…. We aren't always able to save people." I began hesitantly. "We aren't the hero's people have made us out to be. We've killed as many as we've saved."

To my surprise, a wooden spoon was suddenly flying at me. It hit me right between my eyes and I cried out in surprise and pain, staggering over. Was it a general rule that all French housewives were lethal with spoons? Because it seemed to follow a pattern.

Charlotte stepped in front of me, her kind face pinched up in fiery determination, "Don't you dare tell me you aren't a hero, Rogue. The fact that you don't think you are despite all the people you've helped, just goes to show that you deserve that title even more. Yes, you've done bad, everyone has, but you always, always try your hardest to save innocent people. I've heard the stories, and I can see the scars on your body, I know you've almost killed yourself trying to save others. I know how close you've come to your namesake. All because you have a heart that is too big. If that doesn't make you a hero, I don't know what does."

Simply because she reminded me so much of Constance, I nodded in reply to her words.

She nodded in satisfaction and turned, starting her housework again.

"Now, I wish you luck in your endeavor. However, I have hope that since you are looking, your friend will be fine." She stated, leaving no room for an argument.

I stepped forward cautiously, "You seem to have a lot of faith in me." I said casually.

Charlotte grinned at me, "How could I not? I've been here in France at the time of your infamy in England, but I still visit my sister often. I've heard so much about you, and I've met some of the people you've helped. You done so much good, and you've done it almost entirely alone."

I shook my head, but guessed that it'd be useless to continue to fight her on the subject, even if I wasn't the hero she thought I was.

D'artagnan walked into the kitchen then, his sword tapping against the door frame as he walked through. He looked up at me, tearing his attention away from the little boy currently hanging on his arm, still asking more questions.

He smiled tiredly at me, and I could tell that the smile was forced. He was exhausted, even if he wouldn't admit it, and all of his focus was on Constance right now.

I heard his silent plea for help, so I turned to Charlotte, dropping a few coins onto the counter. "Thank you so much for your assistance, tell your husband that we appreciated his help. But we have to go now."

Charlotte nodded, attempting to give me the money back, but I quickly dodged her protests and walked to the front door, grabbing my cloak and my hat as D'artagnan untangled himself from Adam and did the same.

"Thank you again." D'artagnan said, trying for charming.

We walked out into the street and left Charlotte standing there in the doorway, one hand on Adam's head and the other curled around the money I had given her.

We quickly went to the stables, got our horses, and saddled them. They had been well taken care of, so D'artagnan left a small bag of a few coins hanging in the stall in return.

After we were saddled, we cautiously walked back into the street.

"We can't stay in town." D'artagnan said, "Not now. They know we're here now, they've seen us."

I nodded, sighing, "It'll make finding Constance more difficult. However, they did leave us a clue as to where she is."

D'artagnan shot me a sidelong glance, "What are you talking about?"

"The letter. It gave us a location, but the exact location wasn't in town, now was it? It was outside of town. It wasn't terrible descriptive, but if I had to guess, we aren't that far from it. It'll probably be a building outside the town, big enough to house the people who attacked us, and maybe more. All we have to do is find it. It might take us a few more days, but it's doable, and we have a place to start." I explained, swinging onto my horse quickly.

D'artagnan nodded, swinging onto his own horse. "That's more than enough for me. We have to find her quickly."

I hummed in agreement as we urged our horses into a gallop so we could get out of town quicker. "But we have to be thorough, otherwise we risk missing something."

D'artagnan shook his head, clearly unhappy, but conceded as we rode out, "Fine. If we miss something it'll take longer in the long run anyway I guess."

I shot him a grin, "There's thinking that would make Athos proud!"


	11. Chapter 11

_No one's POV:_

It had been four days since the five Musketeers split up, in that time, Athos, Porthos, and Aramis had gotten to Orleans and found the spy. He hadn't been all too difficult to find, all they needed to do now was corner him and deliver him back to Paris.

In fact, that plan was currently in action.

Aramis was chasing the spy through the streets of Orleans, keeping up with him easily. Tailing D'artagnan and Rogue through the busy streets of Paris when they raced had given him a lot of practice after all.

The spy ducked into an alleyway after a wagon cut him off in the street, just like Athos had predicted.

Aramis followed behind at a sedate pace, already knowing they had him right where they wanted him.

In the alleyway, the spy slid to a stop as Athos stepped in front of his only other exit, sword held lightly in one hand and flintlock in the other.

Porthos threw a stone into the spy's path from the rooftop, and waved, grinning wickedly.

Aramis stepped into place last, easy smile on his face as he casually slung his rifle over his shoulder, putting his other hand nonchalantly on his belt, right beside his sword.

Athos stepped forward, "You are under arrest, by authority of the King of France. Any attempt to flee further or fight your way out will be dealt with swiftly and without mercy. Come with us peacefully, or we will take you by force." He tilted his head with a savage glint in his eyes, "And I don't think you'd like our methods."

Had D'artagnan been with them, he'd be currently throwing stones at the spy from the rooftop opposite Porthos, and Rogue would be sitting near the wall, black sword across her knees and terrifying smile set in place.

Unfortunately, their younger duo were currently far away from them, thanks to the Spaniards much like the one in front of them. As such, Athos' temper was being strained, Porthos would have loved to have the excuse to fight, and Aramis' finger was inching towards the trigger.

"Your king?" The Spaniard snarled nastily, then barked a laugh, " _Él es muy estúpida. Muy pendejo, y tu también."_

Aramis' lips twitched in response, "That's not a very nice thing to say."

The Spaniard whipped around, snarling, " _Tu madre era una perra! Tu pendejo!"_

Aramis glowered at the man, "Let's leave my mother out of this, _si?"_ Then Aramis grinned, "Unless, you'd like to involve yours?"

The man lunged forward, but Porthos dropped out of the sky, punching the man on his way down. Porthos' hits hurt anyway, but add that to the momentum of falling? The man might not wake up in time to see Paris. He'd wake up in the Garrison, already being questioned.

Aramis frowned, stepping forward to kick the man's boot lightly, "Was that really necessary?" He asked, "I had been hoping to use my superior fighting skills."

Athos rolled his eyes at the two of them, but crouched down and rid the man of his weapons, and took a piece of paper out of his pocket.

He took one look at it, then handed it to Aramis, "It's in Spanish. Mind translating?"

Aramis nodded, shifting the weight of his gun so the barrel wasn't pointing at Porthos or Athos.

His eyes skimmed over the text, then he curled his lip in disgust upon finishing it. "Basically put, a location, as well as a call to arms. There might be coding behind it as well, I can't tell from just a glance."

Athos nodded, "At any rate, we can give it to Treville when we take him to Paris."

Porthos nodded and bent down, slinging the dead weight of the man over his shoulder easily.

Aramis froze, reading the text in his hand again. The action did not go unnoticed by Athos and Porthos, who looked at each other before stepping closer to Aramis.

"'Mis, I didn't really like that look." Porthos noted.

Aramis looked up at both of them with no shortage of bewilderment, "The location on the paper…. It's the same one that sent D'artagnan and Rogue after Constance."

Athos nodded, musing, "It makes sense that the two parties would be connected, we expected it."

Aramis shook his head, "No, Athos, the call to arms is basically stating 'Death to any Musketeer you come across, as we ourselves have taken the mantle of at the location safe-house'. If this is the letter he _received_ , which I think it is, it could mean that they have no intention of letting Rogue and D'artagnan walk out with Constance alive."

The three exchanged looks, then moved forward as one. "New plan. We drop this idio' off at Paris, then go after Rogue and D'artagnan."

Aramis and Athos nodded, speaking in unison, "Good plan."


	12. Chapter 12

_Two days later:_

 _Rouge's POV:_

This is not the kind of thinking Athos would be proud of.

We had been in town a week now, and had finally gotten a lead. Said lead was in the form of one of the 7 Spaniards trying to kill us at every turn, we had snagged him less than an hour ago.

Well, I knocked him out with a frozen apple that I had found near the market place, and D'artagnan had drug him into the abandoned cabin at the edge of the woods we had found, just in sight of town. I had just finished taking care of the horses, who were in a run down barn near said cabin.

The Spaniard had woken just a few minutes ago, and D'artagnan was scaring _me_ with how savage he was being in his questioning. He hadn't drawn blood yet beside the Spaniard's nose, but I was waiting until D'artagnan would draw his sword in his anger.

Part of me wanted to stop D'artagnan, the other part, the savage part, the Horseman of Death part, held me in place. Curiosity winning over my morals to see just how far D'artagnan would go to get Constance back.

D'artagnan finally snarled, whipping around, scaring the poor man where he was tied tightly, arms and legs, to an old wooden chair. The Spaniard didn't look like much, he wasn't strong nor intelligent looking.

D'artagnan stalked towards me, and it was the Horseman that kept me from backing away from him. He had a horribly primal light in his eyes, and he looked like a wolf, waiting to kill. He did take after his mentor in scariness I suppose.

D'artagnan lowered his voice slightly, then spoke English, instead of French. However, his accent was quite possible the worst English accent I had ever heard before.

"Can you threaten him in Spanish?" D'artagnan asked stutteringly, and with such a thick accent I almost didn't understand him.

But I nodded, "Of course." I replied back, in English as D'artagnan apparently didn't want our guest to know what we were saying, "How threatened do you want him?"

D'artagnan scowled, then looked over me appraisingly, "I don't need Rogue right now. I need Death." He stated.

His words surprised me, he obviously saw Death and I as separate people. Rogue being his friend and fellow Musketeer, someone he could tease and pull pranks with, someone he could go to when he couldn't talk to anyone else, a sister. The Horseman of Death was seen as my counterpart that he didn't feel as comfortable with, a scary demon that looked like me.

But I dipped my head. No matter how confused I had been at the request, I understood what he meant. He wanted the scary me, the part with no morals or honorable code.

I shrugged, stepping forward as D'artagnan stepped back, watching me and waiting impatiently.

I walked over to the man, then spoke flawless Spanish, _"You seem to be giving my friend a rough time. Care to tell me what he asked you to tell him?"_

In response, the man spat angrily at me.

I calmly wiped away the spit from my jacket, then picked my head up with a wicked grin that had made braver men than him quake.

Indeed, it did make him pause.

I narrowed my eyes at him, taking off my hat and putting it on the shabby table. I saw the cross he wore around his neck, and I knew what to do.

I also knew that my canines were a lot sharper than most, and if I grinned widely, pulling my lips up, then it gave people a perfect view of them. It wasn't natural, and a lot of people were scared of it when they saw me, calling me monster and the like.

I continued to smile close-lipped at the man, and asked sweetly, innocently, _"Tell me, stupid man, do you believe in demons?"_

He eyed me mistrustfully, _"Why do you wish to know?"_

I shrugged, _"It's a simple enough question. Do you believe in demons?"_ I bared my 'fangs' at him with a small, demonic, chuckle, _"Because you really should."_

"El diablo!" He shouted, jerking in his bindings, turning a quick look at D'artagnan, who was staring at me in surprise since he had also seen it.

I laughed haughtily, twirling a dagger in my hand. _"Close, darling. You're close. But alas, I cannot hold that title. No, I'm merely a demon."_ I gave him another wicked grin, and watched as a shiver went down his spine.

I paused, then asked, _"Where is the female you took from us?"_

The man had seemed to swallow most of his fear and he sneered, voice quivering, _"If you are a demon, why can't you find out yourself?"_

In reply, I gave him another wicked grin, hissing slightly and watching his eyes widen in fear, _"Because torture is far more fun."_ I snarled gleefully, beginning to slink across the floor towards him, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw D'artagnan shift uncomfortably. He had no clue what we were saying, but he could read body language easily enough.

The man began to panic as I neared him, throwing frantic looks to D'artagnan as if he'd suddenly stop me.

I considered the black blade in my hands for a moment, then turned back to the Spaniard with a manic light in my eyes, _"Did you know, that legend states that if a human were to be touched by a demon blade, he'd immediately be damned?"_

The man quivered as I neared him, all his bravado falling away piece by piece the closer I got to him, _"You…. You wouldn't…."_ The man half moaned, half pleaded.

I snickered, stopping for a moment, _"Care to find out? I would love to see if you'll scream the entire way down. It'll be such_ _ **fun**_ _!"_ At the last word, I lunged towards him.

He jerked back so violently that a chair leg snapped beneath him, and he slammed into the ground, crying out to the Church, begging me not to touch him, and saying over and over that he'd take us to Constance if I didn't touch him.

I walked slowly over to where his head was, and crouched down. He stilled, tears streaming down his terrified face as he begged me over and over again not to touch him. I held the knife over his heart by my fingertips, making it look like to all the world I was prepared to kill him. Even if I held the dagger so tightly my fingers were turning white so it didn't accidentally go out of my hands, I did not enjoy killing people.

 _"_ _Is the female alive?"_ I asked in a feral snarl.

He nodded vigorously, _"The boss said he'd wait until he'd killed the other Musketeer, then he take his dead body to show the girl. She hasn't shut about him coming to save her with his friends."_ His bottom lip quivered, his eyes shining with tears and fear, _"She never said she knew a demon."_

I gave him a feral grin, patting his cheek condescendingly, watching as he jerked violently away from my touch, _"No? Pity. Guess I'll just have to introduce myself the old fashion way. You will take us to the exact location, and if you are lying to me,"_ I gave him another flash of my canines, watching as he shivered, face pale and flushed despite the cold, _"I will not hesitate to drag you to hell."_

M

D'artagnan stepped over to me as I stood, sheathing my dagger. "You are terrifying when you do that." He noted.

I smirked at him, "Well, you were pretty scary earlier too. So we're even." I retrieved my hat, "You wanted The Horseman, I gave you the Horseman. He said he'll take us to Constance."

The poor man, who understood French, nodded violently, speaking to D'artagnan. "Just don't let that thing touch me. Please. I'll take you to your friend, I promise. Just don't let it touch me."

D'artagnan looked at me in surprise, drawing me to one side of the room, hissing, "What did you tell him?"

I grinned, "I told him I was a demon. He believed me. We can use it to our advantage, then knock him out and tie him to a tree or something."

D'artagnan sighed, shaking his head, before giving me a small smile. "Let's agree not to use that method unless we are extremely desperate."

To be truthful, I hadn't felt that could about doing it at all, I hadn't wanted to scare him that badly. So I nodded vigorously, "Agreed. I didn't like it much either."

D'artagnan glared at the frightened man, who shivered as I turned to look at him too, before D'artagnan turned back to me, "Can you keep up the act until we get there?"

I bit my lip, then nodded, "Yeah." I sighed out, "Yeah, I can keep it going. Acting vicious to someone who was trying to kill us isn't as hard as I thought it'd be."

D'artagnan ran a hand through his hair, "I wish Porthos was here. Then neither one of us would have had to do that."

"Even just Athos, he could stare him into submission." I said humorlessly.

D'artagnan gave a dark chuckle, then took a deep breath, "Alright, I'll get him. Do you mind getting the horses?"

I shook my head, "Not at all."

I stalked out of the cabin to keep up appearances, swinging my cloak over my shoulders.


	13. Chapter 13

I crossed my arms, leaning against a tree, watching the house in the clearing intently. My horse snorted behind me, and I reached behind to sooth him. He was bored being tied to a tree, and I didn't blame. But I waited until D'artagnan returned from tying the Spaniard we had caught to a tree further into the forest.

According to him, Constance was inside, trapped in the basement, just as she had been for a week.

I was itching to kill those who had dared touch her, but D'artagnan and I had both agreed it would be better if we could get inside and get Constance out without drawing attention. I had a few bombs inside my sleeves that could bring the building down if I threw them right, so if things went sour, we could get outside and burn the house down.

That would provide a suitable distraction for us to get away with; we had even tied our horses loosely just to ensure that we could make a quick getaway after we got Constance. As much as I loathed setting more things on fire, I might not have a choice.

Then again, the whole plan might be shot down anyway considering how injured Constance was. I didn't doubt we'd get her out regardless, what I did doubt was D'artagnan's self control. If she was even the slightest bit bruised, I might have to knock D'artagnan out myself to keep him from getting himself killed.

The snow crunched behind me, and I turned my head to see D'artagnan appear on his horse.

Night had already fallen, so the darkness would help us further.

He tied his horse beside mine, throwing snow up with his feet.

Then he checked his weapons, making sure he had everything, before he nodded to me, "Are you ready?" He asked.

I dipped my head in answer, "Yes. And I've found us a way inside. The house isn't overly large, however, look there." I pointed to the base of the house, where a window sat, leading to the basement. "That's our way in. Both of us could fit through the narrow opening. Hopefully, if Constance is not injured, we can exit the same way we got in."

D'artagnan nodded, "Then you throw a smoke bomb and we run as fast as we can in the other direction?"

I shot him a smirk, "Basically yes."

D'artagnan sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. We were both leaving our hats with the horses, since the hats would just get in the way if we were sneaking. "Most of the plans we create on our own usually wind up exploding spectacularly in our faces."

I shrugged, "If it does, we'll burn that bridge when we get there."

D'artagnan sighed again, but nodded. "I don't like going in this alone, but, we don't really have a choice."

I nodded, "Yeah. Unfortunately not. The other three are probably already waiting for us at the Garrison by now."

Another sigh, "Alright. Might as well go now, right?"

I nodded, "Yep. Whatever happens," I held out my hand, "All for one."

D'artagnan clasped my hand with his, holding tighter than perhaps was necessary, and his other hand curled around the back of my neck as mine rose to clasp his shoulder.

"One for all." He finished.

M

 _No one's POV:_

Athos walked into the busy tavern, followed closely by Porthos and Aramis. They were in the town that D'artagnan and Rogue had vanished off to. They had dropped of the spy with Treville, then immediately went after their youngest duo.

They three of them branched off, intent on finding anything they could about Rogue or D'artagnan from the locals.

What proceeded afterwards was a bar brawl because Aramis had run into a drunk Spaniard, who had said some very not nice things about Rogue and D'artagnan, which 'forced' Aramis to retaliate, which caused him to get punched in the face, and the whole thing was seen by Porthos, who rushed over and threw the Spaniard into another group of people over a table, playing cards.

Athos finally found both of his brothers in the throng, and drug them both out, Aramis by his ear because he had seen what had happened to Aramis as well, and he was not happy with him.

"Was it really that important to start a brawl?" Athos asked as soon as they were out in the snow burdened street.

Aramis rubbed his ear ruefully while Porthos cracked his knuckles, "I hadn't meant to start a brawl! He said that they were going to kill D'art and Rogue when they got their hands on them, I asked him why, he told me I was being too nosy, and I replied that I could be nosier. Then he punched me in the face. Porthos was really the one that started it."

"Oi! Was I jus' supposed to let you get punched then? I'll remember that for later." Porthos growled.

"Enough." Athos commanded, rubbing his temple, "While you two idiots were starting fights, I spoke with the local baker. He said that he housed two Musketeers several days ago, but they left quickly afterwards. He doesn't know where they are now, but he did tell me about the Spaniards. He said they have been going back and forth from town to a house on the edge of the forest since they arrived. That will be the best place to start."

Aramis nodded, "Alright. Then what are we waiting for? Let's go!"

They retrieved their horses, and began to ride to the location the baker had pointed Athos to.

They had just left the town when a deafening explosion shook the ground, and in front of them, almost shrouded completely in fog, they could make out a burning house, shining like a torch in the blackness of night.

They exchanged a look, speeding up their horses, "How much do you want to bet that the explosion was Rogue's doing?!" Aramis asked rhetorically.

Porthos growled, "I'm a gambler, but I don't need to gamble on that bet. Not when I know she is."


	14. Chapter 14

The first part of our plan worked, we made it to the small window without any trouble at all. The Spaniards did have a watch set up, but the watchmen never actually patrolled, so it was all too easy to make it to the window.

A fog had rolled in, and was shrouding everything, so we had even more cover. And the wind was blowing snow over our tracks.

With D'artagnan watching my back, I opened the window as quietly as I could.

I slid inside, landing silently in the wall shrouded in darkness.

In fact, the entire room was dark. The only source of light must have been the window that I had just entered through.

D'artagnan hit the ground beside me and hissed, "Rogue? Where are you?"

I grabbed his arm in reply as movement rustled in the far end of the room, "Shh. I'm beside you. We're not alone in here."

D'artagnan reached forward with his free hand, and I heard him connect to a shelf. I reached out as well and my hand connected with a hanging lamp.

"Alright, cover your eyes for a moment." I whispered, before pulling my striker out of my bracers and lighting the lamp.

Orange light flooded my vision, and I blinked rapidly, before squeezing D'artagnan's arm, "You're good now." I told him, releasing his arm to grab the lamp.

I held it in front of me as I began to creep past the shelf we had been behind.

The borders of the room we entered were lined with shelves, but the center of the room and one corner of the room was bare. Except the bare corner wasn't empty, a figure was chained to the wall.

And it was Constance. An injured Constance.

D'artagnan lunged across the room at the figure, murmuring her name over and over again, encouraging her to wake up for him.

I walked behind him and grabbed Constance's arm, she was freezing.

I handed the lamp to D'artagnan and he stared at Constance's broken form in despair, taking the lamp numbly.

She was in bad shape, one of her arms was at an awkward angle and blood oozed out of her all over her body. Her stomach had several stab marks in it, and her arms and face were covered in cuts. There was a small pool of blood beneath her that was just beginning to dry, so it hadn't been that long. I hoped beyond hope that she didn't have an infection, or at least, one we couldn't catch before it did lasting damage.

This was Constance, my friend with such a big, kind heart that wasn't afraid to defend what was hers and was loyal to a fault. How could anyone do this to her?

I whipped off my cloak, wrapping it around Constance's shoulders.

She moaned as we shifted her off the floor, and her eyes fluttered.

D'artagnan put the lamp on the ground and cupped her cheek gently, murmuring her name until her eyes fluttered open and focused blearily on D'artagnan.

Her cracked lips rose in a fractured smile and she murmured in disbelief, "D'artagnan?"

D'artagnan nodded and I began to pick the locks on the chain holding her to the wall. She was barefoot, and her feet were cut painfully. Rage coursed through me, but I schooled my emotions quickly.

I could see D'artagnan was angry, though he was being impossibly gentle with Constance, so I would have to stay calm.

I finished with the chains as Constance grabbed D'art's arm, "You….. You came…." She murmured, smiling up at him tiredly. "Knew you would…"

D'artagnan drew in a shaky breath, offering her a small smile, "Of course I did, I could never leave you. Never you." He told her, honesty shining in his voice and his eyes as he tenderly picked her up so she was leaning against his chest. He ran his fingers gently through her tangled hair, and I coughed, getting her attention.

"Hi, Rogue, also here to save you." I offered her a cheeky grin, and in reply she giggled tiredly, before wincing in pain.

I winced as D'artagnan stiffened, "Okay, Constance, I'm going to check your ribs, okay? This might hurt."

She nodded bravely, clinging to D'artagnan like he was her life-line. He probably was in all honesty. She had just suffered the pain of her husband dying, then torture, at the hand of people she couldn't even understand. She had my respect before, but she had just heightened it.

I gently checked her ribs, finding that, though a few were cracked, none were broken, miraculously.

I took out a knife and cut off a strip of my tunic. Then, with the strip, I wrapped her midsection tightly. She made a cry of pain as the black fabric pressed against her multiple injuries, and D'artagnan hissed in warning to me. But if I didn't, she risked bleeding to death.

When I was finished I leaned back on my heels, "Well, we aren't going out the way we came. That'd be too much of a strain on her injuries."

D'artagnan nodded, shifting gently so Constance wasn't leaning against him so much.

Then the door opened, and light flooded inside more than what our meager lamp did.

A man stepped inside with a plate, but froze when he saw us.

Before I could even start to rise, I suddenly had an armful of Constance, and D'artagnan was attacking the man with a vicious sort of energy.

The poor man hadn't even stood a chance, he was dead before he hit the ground.

D'artagnan cleaned off his sword with a grim expression on his face, turned to me, then turned to the door, a light I didn't like bloomed in his eyes.

Before I could even begin to tell him no, he was already making his way through the door, shouting, "Take care of her, Rogue!"

I cursed in Welsh, loudly. I cursed the Spaniards. I cursed D'artagnan for being stupid. I cursed myself for not seeing it coming and preventing it. And I cursed everything in general. I could hear my mother's voice in the back of my mind telling me that the curses I was using were not nice things to say, and I politely told that voice to shut up. Or, as politely as I could manage right now.

Constance blinked at me, her addled mind having not caught up to the situation yet. "That didn't sound very nice." She noted, almost like a child.

I stood up carefully, taking Constance with me and attempting to ensure most of her weight was on me. I noticed that D'artagnan had knocked over the lamp in his haste to move, and I also noticed that the hot wax had already coated the bottom of the shelf near us. And last but not least, I noticed the open flame was already attaching itself to the shelf.

Wonderful.

I looked at Constance, biting my lip. I couldn't very well catch up to D'artagnan and get both of them out if we were staggering along, now could I?

"Sorry about this, Constance. It will aggravate your ribs a lot, but I'm not Porthos. I can't do this any other way." I said quickly, before stepping forward, bending over, and throwing Constance over my shoulders. One of her arms was slung over my shoulder, and I pinned that arm to my side, mindful of the broken one that dangled behind me. I shifted her as gently as I could to ensure she was draped over both of my shoulders as she cried out in pain. "Sorry, but we've got to catch up to your annoying lover." I huffed, before rushing out the door.


	15. Chapter 15

I was not prepared for the sheer carnage I would find. There were bodies littering the hallway, all the way to the stairs that would take us to the first floor. D'artagnan hadn't shown his opponents any mercy. The love struck moron.

I rushed up the stairs, careful so I didn't bump Constance into a wall. I hated the position I was putting her in, because I knew there was a chance I could break her ribs like this. I cursed D'artagnan again.

I burst onto the first floor, noticing that the noise was coming from the room to the right, and the exit was to the left.

I looked back and forth, before cursing again and setting Constance down gently beside the door. Then I shoved my way through the door on the right. .

I came upon a scene I did not like.

D'artagnan was surrounded on nearly all sides by guns, and his sword was poised at the throat of the person who looked like the leader. His clothing was certainly more extravagant, and his decorated sword matched that of a Captain.

I walked inside, noticing with a grim sort of cheerfulness that some of the guns had shifted to me the moment I moved.

"D'artagnan," I said cheerfully, "You girlfriend is in the room behind us, all alone, because you are being an idiot."

D'artagnan didn't look at me, but he growled, "I'm going to kill him. He said he did that to Constance. Get her out of here, Rogue."

I rolled my eyes, holding up my hands at the Spaniards, "No you won't. I'm attempting something new, and getting _both_ love-birds out of this place. So move your idiotic self back so I can punch you in the face."

I think the only reason D'artagnan hadn't been shot yet was because the way he was positioned, if he fell, the sword at the throat of the Captain would go forward with all of D'artagnan's body weight, which would behead the man. And the only reason D'artagnan hadn't killed the man already was because of all the guns pointed at him.

I walked forward slowly, knowing that they were priming to fire at me.

Then, without warning, I lunged forward, clasping D'artagnan's shoulder and jerking him behind me, knocking him to the floor before diving to the side myself as gunfire echoed around us.

I knew I had been hit, how could I not be? I had been hit three times, once in the leg, once in the stomach, and once in my shoulder. From what I could see, D'artagnan was fine, if angry with me.

I drew twin daggers, letting the Horseman of Death take over. I spun around, knocking guns out of hands before they could reload, throwing my daggers when one got too close to one of us, and knocked the man whom D'artagnan had been about to kill out.

When I was finished, I willed the demonic light to leave my eyes.

D'artagnan looked around in slight surprise at how fast the bodies had hit the floor, then he narrowed his eyes at the leader, "Is he dead?" He asked lightly, too lightly.

I shook my head, and D'artagnan stalked forward, sword in hand. I was going to have none of that, so I grabbed D'artagnan's shoulder and threw him out of the room, throwing a smoke bomb behind me because a few of the people were still living, and would be coming to very quickly.

I followed him through the door, where he staggered and fell beside Constance.

I slammed the door closed, before I rushed forward shouting, "Get her up! Now!"

I ran outside, whistling a high, clear whistle. I heard two neighs in response, then the thunder of hooves began towards us.

D'artagnan staggered out of the house with Constance in his arms, "I had him!" He roared angrily. "If you had just left me be, the person who did this to Constance would be dead!"

I fired my flintlock at the door behind him, killing a man about to shoot him. "And so would you be!" I shouted at him, just as angry with him. "And now, because of your idiocy, we might not make it away!"

I threw a black knife through the air, where it brought down another attacker. It was only a matter of time before they began shooting through the windows. Thankfully though, I could see our horses rushing towards us.

My horse neighed, and leapt between us and the house, provided us with some cover.

I held Constance as D'artagnan mounted his horse, then practically threw her into his lap.

I shivered at the cold and from blood loss, and my vision was going wobbly. D'artagnan hadn't noticed yet, which was good. Had he known, he wouldn't let me do what I was about to do.

"Get her out of here, D'artagnan. Run. Get her into town. Find Charlotte, I'm sure she'd help you if you asked her to." I commanded.

"What are you going to do?" He demanded, trying to calm his skittish horse with one hand, the other holding Constance tightly against him as she faded in and out of consciousness.

"Buy you time." I replied simply, "I'll be right behind you. Just go now!"

D'artagnan hesitated, so I continued, "If you don't, Constance will die! Protect the woman you love, D'artagnan!" I barked, letting the demon I had acted as out again, throwing another knife at someone prepared to shoot my horse.

That threw D'artagnan into motion, and he spurred his horse forward.

They galloped off, being almost instantly swallowed by the fog and the blowing snow.

The moment he was out of sight, I swung onto Shadow's back as he danced around. I jerked all the bombs I had with me out, and looked back at the house. Flames already were licking the bottom of the building, steadily rising up. I wouldn't get another shot, if I didn't do it now, there would still be people following us.

I took a deep breath, then primed all the bombs I had in my hand that would do damage, five in total, mixed together were extremely explosive. Then I threw them into the house. I didn't stick around further, and spurred my horse forward as more gunshots echoed around me.

I didn't make it far before the entire building exploded in flames. Despite the bitter cold surrounding me, and the thick fog, I could feel the heat from the blast, and the glow illuminated my path for a few moments.

I slowed my horse down, vision going fuzzy, and before I could stop myself, I fell to the side.

I rammed into the ground, and rolled over with a groan. Cold surrounded me, and I could see my scarlet blood tainting the pure white snow.

I faced the sky, watching as the fog once again swallowed me, and the ice swirled around me, dancing on the wind.

I was freezing, I was lying in a snow pile so of course I was cold, but I couldn't find the energy to stand.

My legs were sprawled out, and one hand was curled over my stomach while the other lay limply at my side. If I had my winter cloak, I probably would have been fine in terms of cold. But Constance had it, and I didn't regret giving it to her. She had needed it more than I had.

My vision was going funny, and I was finding it hard to breath. I heard the snow crunch beside me, and felt my horse lay down at my side. His head curled over my injured shoulder, sparking fire through me as the injury cried out, but I still couldn't bring myself to move.

I knew, somewhere in my mind, that I could get up enough to take the blanket from Shadow's saddle, that if I could get warm, I'd be able to treat my injuries. But I couldn't move, everything was going numb. Shadow moved until he was practically lying on top of me with his warm body, and I was grateful for the effort.

Had help been coming, my horse might have saved my limps from being lost to frostbite. But, D'artagnan was hopefully on his way to town, not coming back. The other three friends were probably in Paris, waiting for D'artagnan and I to return with Constance.

I frowned, looking up at the swirling snow.

And to think, I had just become a Musketeer too. This had been my first mission as a Musketeer.

Darkness began to creep into my vision, and I blinked to try and clear it away.

In the distance, I could hear shouting. Probably a survivor from the house….

I blinked again, slower this time. I could hear the thundering hooves of horses. Was it just my imagination? Or were they getting closer?

My eyes closed again, and I didn't have the willpower to open them.


	16. Chapter 16

_No one's POV:_

The three Musketeers raced towards the explosion, hoping that their youngest were not there, hoping that they hadn't caused it.

As they ran on horseback, a figure came quickly towards them.

They stopped their horses, waiting, as the figure came to a slow stop about 15 feet from them. The figure was hunched over in the saddle, and look abnormally large.

Then the figure straightened, and they realized that there were two figures on the horse.

One of them waved, and they heard a shout of, "Athos! It's D'artagnan!"

M

 _Aramis' POV:_

I allowed myself to breath, and we raced towards our fourth member.

Once we got closer, I realized that he had curled himself protectively over Constance, who was wearing Rogue's cloak.

"What happened? Where's Rogue?" Athos asked as we got closer.

D'artagnan's face was flushed and too pale for my liking, "She said she'd buy us time. She was supposed to be right behind us, but then the explosion happened. I don't know where she is."

Athos looked up at me, and he didn't even have to say anything. I urged my horse forward, rushing towards the remains of the house with Porthos right behind me, Athos calling behind us, "I'll take these two back to the village!"

We neared the burning building, and just as I was preparing to go towards it, Porthos hit my shoulder and pointed.

I narrowed my eyes at where he was pointing, and eventually managed to see a dark lump on the white snow.

We started towards it, and I realized that it was Shadow, Rogue's intelligent beast that had saved her life more than once.

"Rogue?!" I called out as we approached. The horse lifted his head to us, and nickered, but otherwise stayed lying in the snow.

I dismounted as I got closer, handing Porthos the reins to my own horse. I approached the horse, then saw just what he had been lying beside.

Rogue was lying in the snow, one hand curled over her stomach, hair splayed out in the snow on either side of her, and blood oozed from several injuries all over her. Her lips were blue, and her eyes were closed. Frost had settled over her form, making her glitter in the halflight. If we hadn't been here, I could have imagined she was just making another one of her snow angels. As it was, the sigh made my heart freeze.

"Rogue!" I shouted, quickly getting over to her and sweeping off my cloak. I picked her up off the cold ground and wrapped my cloak tightly around her.

I remember that she always kept a blanket tied to her saddle, so I blindly reached for it, untying the knots, before bundling her in that as well. I lifted her up, cradling her against my chest, and her horse rose to its feet, massive head bumping against me as I walked back to my horse.

Porthos had dismounted and was waiting for me. "What's wrong with er?" He asked, worry clouding his gaze.

"She's been shot, three times from what I can tell, and probably already has hypothermia. We need to get her back to the village and someplace warm, fast." I replied hurriedly.

Porthos nodded, taking her for a moment until I swung into my saddle, then handing her back to me.

He tied Shadow's reins to his saddlehorn before swinging onto his own horse.

With the precious cargo secured tightly against my chest, we raced off into the darkness.


	17. Chapter 17

I woke up to the sound of shouting voices.

"At have I told you, time and time again? Don't think with your heart in a situation like that!" It sounded like Athos was reprimanding someone. "All three of you could have died because of your actions!"

"I'm sorry, Athos. I couldn't see straight. He had hurt Constance…" D'artagnan's voice replied back hopelessly.

"And because she was saving your hide, Rogue nearly died for it!" Porthos shouted.

"Shh. She still needs sleep, and so does Constance. Which, I might add, you three have already woken up!" Aramis chided.

I was cold, but I could feel everything, so I wasn't too cold now. The last thing I remembered was being in the snow….

I tried to move, and fiery pain lit up my side, my arm, and my leg. Despite trying to stay silent, I couldn't catch the groan of pain from leaving my mouth.

The entire room fell into a hushed silence. Then a gentle, warm, hand was on my forehead, "Rogue? Are you awake?" Aramis gentle voice reached my ears.

I forced my eyes to open, "I'm alive." I stated, half in confusion and half in wonder.

I saw the blurry face of Aramis grin at me, "That you are, though not for lack of trying to die, mind you. How many times must I dig bullets out of you?"

I tried to move again, and the pain washed over me like fire. I groaned again, "Never mind. I've changed my mind. I'm dead. Completely and totally. Give me a touching funeral."

Aramis laughed, running a gentle hand through my hair and sitting down on a chair beside my bed.

I turned my head slowly and blinked blearily at the rest of the people in the room. Athos was leaning against a wall, watching me cautiously. Porthos was sitting on a chair near the fire, grinning at me. Constance was lying down in a bed near me, facing me with a small, tired smile. And D'artagnan was sitting beside Constance, hand in hers, giving me the look that would better suit a kicked puppy.

I blinked again, trying to rid the blurriness from my vision.

"What happened?" I asked stupidly.

"Well," Aramis began, and I turned back to him, "You got shot three times, two of which I had to yank bullets out of you, because of the bullet in your side you had several cracked ribs, and add to the fact that you not only have a concussion, you suffered from hypothermia. Had your horse not been sitting on you when we found you, you'd be an icicle."

I frowned, "Sorry." I muttered.

Aramis looked at me incredulously as D'artagnan made a pained noise, "For what? Protecting your brother? Protecting Constance?"

"For making you worry." I continued simply. "Plus, this didn't exactly assist my crusade of making you have good memories to associate winter with."

Aramis gave a humorless laugh, then shook his head, running a hand through my hair again. "Just attempt not to do it again."

"Here's an idea, stay on your horse next time." Porthos suggested helpfully.

I scowled playfully at him, trying not to move too much.

Then a thought occurred to me, "D'artagnan?" Said person winced when I said his name and I fought the urge to roll my eyes at him, "What happened to the Spaniard we tied up earlier?"

Athos answered for D'artagnan, "We retrieved him earlier. He told us something….. interesting."

Aramis cut in then, "Didn't know you were a demon, care to share with the class?" He teased me.

I groaned, and that pulled a laugh from most of my companions.

"You terrified the poor man." Aramis said through a laugh, "He was going to do anything we asked him to just as long as we didn't 'Give him to the demon with blue eyes and black hair'."

I rolled my eyes, "Hadn't meant to scare him that much…."

"You made him break the chair he was sitting on." D'artagnan teased weakly.

I huffed, wincing as the action sparked more pain, and turned my gaze to D'artagnan, "Yeah well, you weren't exactly kind to him either. I was convinced you were going to give him a heart attack."

Then I pinned him with a glance, "And, before I fall asleep, which is coming very quickly," Black was encroaching my vision, "I forgive you, D'artagnan. So if you continue feeling guilty, next time I'm awake, I will punch you in the face."

That got a snicker from him, and Constance smiled gratefully at me before turning her head back to D'artagnan.

Athos uncrossed his arms and drew in a deep breath, "Well, don't think that her forgiveness will get you out of a punishment." Then he gave me a small smile, and his blue eyes were warm.

Aramis sighed, then ruffled my hair, what was his fascination with it anyway? "Go to sleep, Rogue. We'll be here when you wake up."

I nodded, reaching out and grabbing his other hand before I allowed myself to fall asleep.

And, despite him not thinking I knew, I could feel his cross on my neck.


	18. Chapter 18

The next time I woke up, I felt like I was on fire.

I woke up gasping for breath, but before I could even attempt to pull myself up, a scream pierced my ears, and I flinched away violently. So violently, in fact, that I fell off the bed I had been on, landing in a heap of blankets and limbs on the floor.

My entire body hurt, and my head ached, but I knew for a fact that I had not been the one who had screamed.

I forced myself to rise at least into a sitting position, which sent more fire through me, and I looked over to see Aramis and D'artagnan holding Constance down. Aramis was putting some kind of paste in her injuries, and even from where I was with blurry vision, I could see that some of them had gotten infected. Which would explain why she was in so much pain.

I looked around nauseously until I found my saddle bags on a chair near where I sat. I dragged myself towards it, blearily noting that Porthos and Athos were nowhere to be found, which is probably why I was still on the floor and not being coddled. I knew that I had an infection, the fire of my injuries pointed towards it, and I knew that I couldn't fairly drag Aramis away from Constance. She was worse off than me.

So I drug myself to my saddle bags, rose high enough to sit in the chair, and proceeded to pull out my medical supplies.

I cut the white cloth wrapped around my waist off, and picked up my shirt to inspect the injuries. It had been stitched, and though a bit red and puffy, wasn't too badly infected.

I pushed some of my medicinal paste into the injury, then wrapped it tightly again.

Next I repeated the process with my arm after I popped some mint leaves into my mouth. The arm, like my stomach, wasn't infected too badly, and had neat stitches on it that marked Aramis' handiwork.

Then I lifted the loose pants I was wearing up to my thigh, and bit my cheek as I saw the angry, puffy, red injury.

The bullet wound was puffed up so much that it was straining the stitches, and I would have to cut off the stitches, get the swelling and infection down, then stitch it back up. I had done it on my own numerous times, but still cast a weary look to where Aramis and D'artagnan were still hunched over a writhing Constance.

Then they made me jump as Aramis suddenly popped up, "We can get her outside. If we put her in a snowdrift, then her fever will go down, and so will the swelling. After that, I can take care of the rest of her infected injuries."

D'artagnan nodded, "There is a back entrance we can go through to avoid the rest of the people." He suggested.

With that, they picked Constance up, not sparing me a glance, and rushed out the door.

My sensitive hearing picked up the sounds of a tavern beneath us, so if I had to guess, we were in the inn at the edge of town.

I breathed a sigh of relief as the door banged shut, this would be much easier to do without Aramis or D'artagnan there.

I put a strap of leather in my mouth and bit down on it as I cut off the stitches, pulling them out of my inflamed skin.

With that done, I sucked in a deep breath, and cut the edge of the injury, crying out into the leather as pain assaulted me. I hated bleeding injuries after they got infected, it hurt a lot, and often pushed me just to the point of passing out because of said pain. However, I had gotten a lot better at it over the years. The first time I had to do it to myself, on my own, I passed out for several hours. Now I could get by with screaming.

I forced my shaky hands to push out the pus in the injuries, mixed with blood, and dabbed it with a cloth.

Once I had pushed out as much as I could, and the inflammation had gone down significantly because of it, I shakily threaded a needle and began stitching it up again. Because if the injury was to air out, it'd get worse. So I'd have to stitch it shut now, push some paste onto the area, then wrap it tightly. Then sleep. I could pass out after I was done.

It was that thought that kept me going, and I finally finished with the stitching, after leaving permanent teeth marks in the leather.

I didn't let myself have a break, instead reaching to the small table beside my bed and washing my hands in the water basin there. Once they were clean of blood, I grabbed the white cloth in my bag.

I smeared the burning paste onto the injury, then another paste that would kill of the infection in a very painful way that would burn for hours, before wrapping my leg tightly. Once I was done, I allowed myself to lean my head back and close my eyes, fighting back tears. I sucked in several deep breaths, then mentally congratulated myself for not passing out, though it had come close.

Now that I was done torturing myself, I conceded that the burning pain of infection was slowly fading out of my system. It'd probably be morning before my body convinced itself that I was fine, but by then, I'd probably be okay. Even if the paste I had put onto all my injuries burned as it ate away any proud flesh and infection.

I let a groan escape my lips as I finally allowed my tense muscles to relax. I was still burning up with fever though, so I blindly dug through my medical bag until I found the dried herbs I wanted. I put them in my mouth and chewed on them as my heartbeat returned to normal. The cool, refreshing taste of the herbs was nice, and I found myself relaxing further into the chair, listening to the crackle of the fireplace.

Then the door popped open again, and I opened my eyes to watch D'artagnan and Aramis enter again with a shivering Constance between them. They set her down on the bed again, and Aramis began treating her injuries.

With a sigh, I picked up the jar of paste that burned away infection from my supply and threw it at Aramis' head.

It connected with a solid 'thunk', then fell onto the ground.

Aramis whipped around, rubbing his head in confusion. When he saw me, and the bloody rags around me, he began to step forward, but I pointed to the jar at his feet. "That'll eat away at her infection. It burns though, so you might want to keep her down as you apply it. Once you've done that, wrap it tightly to keep the paste on her injuries. Then I've got some herbs you can make her chew that will bring down fever." I instructed, shifting so I was in a more comfortable position as I put away my other supplies.

Aramis stared at me a moment longer with an unreadable expression, before he turned around, picked up the jar I had thrown at him, and began following my instructions.

As he worked on Constance, I caught D'artagnan's eye and asked, "Where's Athos and Porthos?" Around the herbs still in my mouth.

D'artagnan's gaze flicked to the bloody rags at my side, then back to me, before replying, "Uh…. They're…. Checking the house…. What did you do?"

"That's what I'd like to know too." Aramis grumbled as he wrapped Constance's injuries.

"I woke up right before you two took Constance outside. One of my injuries had gotten infected, I didn't know which one so I changed all of my bandages, applied the paste that Aramis is using, then took care of the one that got infected." I explained, leaning back again.

"How did you 'take care of it'?" Aramis asked testily, his mood apparently wasn't in a good place right now.

"I ripped out the stitching, bled the injury to get the infection out, stitched it up again, put the paste on it, then wrapped it back up again." I said simply, as if it wasn't a big deal. And to me, it wasn't.

Aramis had other ideas, "Tell someone next time you wake up and decide to take apart your injuries while you're infected and probably have a fever!" He shouted, finishing his task of wrapping Constance's midsection.

He began putting the paste on her feet and arms, her broken one was currently in a splint, as I shrugged again. "I've done it enough on my own, you two were busy with Constance, who is worse off than me. It isn't a problem, Aramis."

Aramis took a deep breath, and Constance blearily focused on him, her eyes wide and childlike. "Rogue," Aramis began, deceptively calm, "How many times do I have to remind you that **you are not alone anymore.** _So will you quit acting like it!_ Yes, Constance is injured, yes her injuries are dire, but I can instruct D'artagnan on how to take care of her while I helped you. Do you not realize that?"

I blinked in confusion at how angry he sounded.

D'artagnan, on the other hand, looked at me with something in his eyes that I could call admiration? I don't know.

I dug out the herbs I had spoken about and held them out to D'artagnan, "Here, give these to her. You can mix them with water and make her drink the entire thing, or she can chew on them."

D'artagnan nodded, leaping across the room and taking the herbs before going back to Constance.

Aramis finished wrapping her injuries and pulled a blanket up to her chin.

Then he grabbed my jar and walked back over to me, a scowl set onto his face.

He shoved the jar angrily into my bag, then began putting away everything else.

"Aramis," I said, grabbing his arm, "I'm alright. You were busy, so I handled my own injuries. I'm fine now, really."

He frowned at me, some of the anger fading from his eyes. "You realize how dangerous bleeding an injury is, right? You can literally kill someone with pain if done improperly, or you could bleed the injury too much. You aren't supposed to do it to yourself." He hissed. "Which is exactly what you did. Then you stitched yourself up afterwards!" He scrubbed a hand tiredly over his face, before sucking in a deep breath.

I grabbed his hand, intertwining my fingers with his, "I'm okay. I've done it enough to know my limit. I'm sorry for worrying you. But what's done is done."

He tightened his fingers, kneeling in front of me. "Fine. Just….. Don't do again if you are alone, alright? You have friends now. Someone can help you if you need it."

I smiled at him tiredly, "I wasn't alone though."

He narrowed his eyes at me, and in answer, I lifted his rosary out from underneath my tunic. "I wasn't alone." I murmured again.

Aramis drew in a shaky breath, then leaned his head onto my good leg. His arms twitched like he wanted to hug me, but they stayed at his side.

I ran my fingers gently through his hair as he took deep breaths, murmuring over and over again that I was alright.

I saw D'artagnan move Constance over in her bed, then sit beside her and pull her into his lap, arm curled around her protectively.

I smiled at the pair, knowing that if they were together, they'd be fine.

Just like Aramis and I would be.

However, I had to admit, that if the three of us were with Porthos and Athos, we'd definitely live a lot longer.

Small miracles I'm sure.

 **Hey guys! Sapphire here! So, what'd you think? Liking the story? Tell me!**

 **Also, what do you guys think of Aramis/Rogue? I've been thinking about pairing them together, do tell me though! I love hearing from you guys!**

 **Plus, a relationship like theirs would be torturous for both of them with enough trouble they get into already. I think it'd be fun to write.**

 **I should also mention the whole 'I wasn't alone' thing that Rogue did with the cross. Aramis is Catholic, he's shown that, and with the Catholic faith, it is believed that one is never alone. I didn't put Rogue in any particular religion, but she respects the religion that Aramis is in. That's the deal with her words and all.**

 **Hope you enjoyed!**

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	19. Chapter 19

I staggered into the house with Aramis close behind me. We were back at our house in Paris, and we had just gotten back from debriefing with Treville, sans D'artagnan, who was at Constance's house taking care of her. The other Musketeers had already cleaned it up, and gotten rid of any bloodstains. Constance might want to move away, but for now, she stayed there. She would be fine running her husband's business on her own, and had assured us so. She had helped her husband make mostly everything anyway, she just might need to hire some help.

With that taken care of, Aramis had ushered me home.

The moment the door was closed, Aramis put his arm around my waist, pulling me to his side so I had a bit more support.

"Thanks." I huffed, limping along beside him as we walked up the stairs. Night had fallen over Paris while we spoke with Treville, and I was ready to fall asleep.

We made it up the stairs, and began staggering down the hall. I half expected Aramis to stop at my door, but I knew he wouldn't.

He kept walking forward until we reached his room. He opened his door and ushered me inside.

I pulled off my jacket and my cloak, putting them in Aramis' wardrobe for now, then kicked off my boots. I grabbed the blue tunic and loose pants that I had put in his wardrobe a while ago, and quickly changed using the wardrobe door as a block, and Aramis stayed on the other side of the room.

When I was finished, I limped barefoot towards the bed and sat down, watching tiredly as Aramis walked around the room, latching the window and drawing the curtains to keep the cold out, grabbing a few more blankets, then finally sitting down on the opposite side of the bed.

My hand rose to my neck as he began pulling off his boots. I traced the outline of the wooden cross I had been wearing since Aramis had put it around my neck a week ago.

"What are you doing?" Aramis asked, suddenly right behind me.

I jumped slightly, then winced in pain as my injuries reminded me they were there.

"Ah, sorry. Also, I have something for you, I meant to give it to you a while ago, but it kept slipping my mind." Aramis continued.

I heard a drawer open, and shifted slightly to look behind me.

Aramis held a box in his hand, and he held it out to me with a smile.

I swung my legs up onto the bed and leaned back against the headboard, before opening the box as Aramis settled himself so close beside me that I could feel his warmth.

Inside the box was a wooden cross, much like Aramis' rosary. The difference was that it didn't have beads decorating the black cord, and that the cross wasn't brown, it was blue. It was carved in a braided sort of way, and was, for no other words, beautiful.

"You've always liked mine, and I like seeing it on you. However, I would like to have my rosary back, so I got you this." Aramis told me cheerfully.

I smiled at the blue cross, tracing the outline of it thoughtfully, "Thank you." I said finally.

Aramis grinned at me, before taking his rosary from my neck. He grabbed the new one and tied it in place for me, then brushed my hair away from my neck. "There. Looks pretty good if I do say so myself." He noted, tracing the cord before turning to put his own back on.

The cross came to rest right above my chest, and I immediately liked it.

I think it did look good there.

Aramis finished putting his rosary back around his neck, and it dangled under him as he leaned forward, pulling the blanket's over our legs.

I sighed, partly in relief of the sudden safety that crashed over me, as Aramis put his arm around me and moved me gently until we were both lying down and I was pressed against his side, his chin resting on my head. I could feel his beard run through my hair as he shifted, and I melted into his embrace.

I wouldn't admit it, but I had missed being able to do this. Aramis' bed was becoming more comfortable than any other bed, and I always slept better with him.

Aramis suddenly shifted away from me, then leaned up. The room was blanketed in darkness as he blew the candle out, then he lied back down beside me, shifting again to get comfortable.

I turned slowly, and nestled into his side. He brought the blanket up to my ear and tucked it around my back, before wrapping the blanket around himself too.

With his reassuring heartbeat echoing in my ear, I didn't have nightmares that night.

M

When I woke the next morning, it was to Aramis sliding out of the bed.

I opened my eyes and looked around the room. It was still dark, but I could see the sunlight through the curtain.

Aramis padded softly across the room and opened the curtain, pausing to watch the frost creep along the window.

He turned to me, offering me a small smile when he saw I was awake, and said, "Morning. How do you feel?"

I shifted, groaning softly in pain, "Like I got drug by a horse."

He laughed lightly, padding back across the room before sitting back down in bed.

He threw his legs back under the covers and pulled me against him, shifting and prodding until I was apparently where he wanted me, which was draped halfway across his chest.

"Do we have anywhere to be today?" I asked, throwing an arm over his stomach.

He shook his head, "Nope. Treville gave us the entire week off."

I yawned, snuggling more into Aramis side, "So we can go back to sleep?"

"If you'd like." He replied easily.

I nodded, closing my eyes and listening to his heartbeat.

"Rogue?" He suddenly asked.

"Yeah?" I muttered back.

"I was wondering….." He trailed off, and I could hear his heart start beating faster. "Would you….. Would you like to go on a picnic? Just the two of us, I mean."

I paused, "….. In what way are you asking for?" I asked carefully, and his heart stuttered slightly.

He cleared his throat and continued, "Well…. As in…. More than just friends…"

"You mean courting?" I asked slowly, my own heart picking up.

"Yes…." He said finally.

I smiled against his chest, listening to his raging heartbeat, "I accept."

His heart stopped for a moment before getting faster, and his arm tightened around me, picking me up gently until I was looking at his bright red face. "Seriously?" He asked, hope shining in his eyes.

I smiled at him, feeling a blush crawl up my neck and my ears, "Yes. I would like to go on a picnic with you, just the two of us."

He seemed to freeze, and even his expression was frozen for a few seconds. Then he suddenly cried out in joy and wrapped his arms tightly around me, but not so tightly that it'd cause pain. I laughed in reply and returned the hug as best I could.

"I'm glad." He murmured in ear, his breath tickling.

I laughed against his chest, "I'm glad you finally asked."

"I promise, you won't regret saying yes." He promised me, sincerity in his tone.

"I never thought I would." I replied easily.

 **And thus ends another story, thanks for sticking through! Tell me what you thought of it in the comments, and if you want to see another story with Rogue and our four favorite Musketeers. Or, if you just enjoy my writing style, tell me what kind of story you'd like to read and I shall attempt it.**

 **As always, thanks for sticking around!**

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	20. Chapter 20

New story is up guys! It's called 'The Clock Strikes' so go check it out!

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